When I grow up I want to be a Lullaby.

Funny things, aren’t they

dewy breath, gorgeous noise

so that i can whisper my way into you

but softly, only soft.

I wouldn’t want to do any harm.

You see, Lullabies cast like spells

and I wouldn’t mind casting my way through,

the ache in your mind where the thoughts have begun to form.

to willow-whistle

chasms,

virtuous consumption.

You will listen, and I will relish in knowing the gift that i’ve given you

and you will smile, and hum yourself asleep

to shimmering stories
tongue-dipped wisdom

of the blind paradise worth falling into.

But what if you woke up,

into that darkness.

The stark black of a caving mind.

Into whimsical slumber
and
the anxious wonderland
and
what if you woke up into the game?

what then

darling.