If you lifted stars,
flipped up corners of the midnight sky,
blanket over day - black -
you would find
fireflies swiftly cursing stories
shared to shooting stars,
there are no secrets here.

If you watch
the curls of innocense,
framing the face of youth -
Let her breathe fresh in and
Let him fly - there is nothing
more lonely than growing up.

If you let an anchor
swallow your burden and sink
Its weight to the ocean’s infintie bottom,
Dodge the chain
Drowning just as slow,
Dragging your body,
wrapped delicately,
while brilliant stars whisper;
“No escape.”