Spin circles around the world

And spread fine flour –

Seeing you smile at the end of your earth

Where small worlds are contained

Like a packaged toy to the hurt world.

Healing the healthy heavens above –

Looking for a piece to press in

Soft hands, gently pressed together

Contained in the center of a palm

Languid language crossed gently from her lips.

And she squeals like hogs along the fairgrounds,

And she counts the days with six fingers.

Feeling health abound seeing her

Like a movement of serenity swallowing the earth whole

And those pauses from endurable pain-

Breathing gently again with playful

Penetrating sounds that leave

On spinning like spokes

Brianna is playing today.

Leave a Reply