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.
