For looking out and looking in, above the trees,
where only the birds can see
the outpouring of me, where a light breeze pours in.
Childhood eye, like the metal holes in the sugar holder;
when the rain comes (and you don’t stay with me)
the bed is wet. (Why don’t you grow up.)
I dreamed of floating out of you to dance with big bear about jupiter;
when you leave you realise you are al(one),
like a child misses an imagined twin (it was only the placenta);
the bricks outside my window splash blood red.
for the daily post prompt