Play

We play silent games
Fresh aprons and awesome kisses
All just a test
Twisted like acrobats
An infinite test
We are afraid to say goodbye
Sweet dreams
We aim for the stars
Kiss the back of our hand
Missing chords
Light pouring through the window
Sweet chords
All is missing
We admire the view
Play silent games
No longer afraid
All a big surprise.

Poem

We write poems in the morning
Frost sits heavy on our lips
Words unspoken
Stories untold
TV blaring
Radio crackling
Music shaking our head
We wait for powder
Let him in
To watch
Hatter walks down the middle of the street
I follow him
Wish for syllables
A goose chase
A pillow stuffed up against the window
Block the screams
Wear a heart upon your ear
We write poems in the morning.

Storybook

We unwrap our storybook
A wrinkled day
Sweet juice and liquor
We place words on a little table
A feast of syllables
Hair wild
Shoes unfurled
All so very easy
We drink wine
Empty plates
Trunks of trees
A lasting legacy
We have luck
The wind vibrates dreams
Small arrows
Breaking day
Powder on our lips
We unwrap our story book
Sweet syllables
Delicate words.

Prayer

We whisper sweet prayers and benedictions under our breath
He is watching
As he always will
We wait for the powder
Lips cracked and splitting
Hair turning grey
Time passing
We see broken glass on the street
It takes a hundred breaths not to pick it up
We will crawl upon our knees
We haven't been to the quiet place for far too long
We remember the tiny slips of paper
The candles and cool water upon our forehead
The outside world seeps in through the windows
We marvel in the lights
Whisper sweet prayers and benedictions under our breath.

Travel

Hatter takes his tea at noon
The sun reflects his eyes
We are traveling on an astral plain
The view is blinding
A balm of blood
Music in our ears
Sugar on our tongue
Our world is shrinking
Falling fluid from an icy mind
Our dress is dishevelled
Socks falling down our feet
Shoes scuffed and well worn
The leaves crunch
We play steps
A whisper and a prayer.

Name

We are the first to write our name
Hair dripping
Feet sore
The page is stark and white
We would ask for anything but help
Tiny letters spill over the edge of the cup
We are outside
Writing our sentence
By the shore
Listening to the bells
The door is open but we dare not leave
We are getting old
In a quiet midnight room
We will remember our name
Hair dripping
Feet sore.

Sink

Alice brushes the hair off her face
We are reading fiction
Telling stories
Waiting
The powder courses through our veins
Never enough
Hatter smiles and waves
We drink coffee and eat cake
Drop pennies down the sink
Grapple for words
The radio plays
We brush the hair off our face
Take a break
Laugh in the night
We are reading fiction
Telling stories
All is calm
All is well.