Pretty little mushrooms

Crackle goes the pop rocks, inside her delicate mouth.

Washes down like sweet river, flowing with magenta rays.

Distance, heard a long howl, whispers fade with the night.

Spoons, beaming for every measure of right proportions,

Candle burns flour the roof of her mouth. Preparing each taste bud

To go to war.

Little hands of time speculate the consequence, but dip into

Sensation regardless.

She follows the ribbon as it skillfully dances on grey concrete, watches

As it goes through little cracks of insanity.

There goes red and yellow, black and white.

Her lips press forward, open, outward, there are surprises

Abound.

A small step into childhood? inflates her memory. There goes another

Ribbon ready for freedom.

Like swing sets of summer times, and photographs of grandfathers

Laugh. Her mother breaking kitchen cabinets at supper's time,

Ocean wide amore spreads through her ears, mouth.

Throttle from the pop rocks, throttle from an overdrive to the

Memory coast.

Fingers on piano notes, Ash smoke seeps into every corner, dirt.

Soft, magical waves connect to every vein, a bridge is formed.

Moist skin, disturbance, flings open the bathroom door.

Little men walk with suitcases under eyes

Birthday presents, surprise!

Wake up sleeping beauty, wake up.