Mama’s velvet curtains blew,

moon dust dropped in my eyes,

I cried, died, and tried

Clinging to cranes, to drain

gray words mined in jail.

Janet, the mother, caramel sores

Stole a hug from the four year old, 

Furry orange coats, her ice cream top.

One cries sky, the other cries down,

Lavender flowers and screams

Screeches shiver machines

Janet and Tracy escape,

Run the track, curve the shape.

Through waves, they’re forced to sprint

Shaking with fright, kicking the crates

Ripping the curtains and the drapes

A cocoa door, an oaken imprint.

The lost cabin under the sea,

The gypsy moths silk and free

Mama bellows, slams the door,

Emerald butterflies, wanting more.

Panic, holes, walls and crows,

Outside the window, vacant portals

Lines and strikes with a wail to mortals.

An tree in the yard left its fruit with scars.

No care, no scare, no jolting glare, so

The windows rose,

The curtains closed,

As nothing was there

But pain to bare

To accept and swallow,

To ignore the hollow

The suffocation, the hanging,

The poisoning, and fighting

Eventually the velvet curtains

Were moonlighting.