Pink Floyd
A pretty white lady is on the screen,
lips a light pink, glossy
eyelashes heavy with mascara,
teeth white and straight.
Next to her, in a tiny box,
is video footage of a man being murdered.
But luckily, her hair is blonde
placed just right,
and she says,
“The video was appalling, no one should ever watch something like that ever again. People on the streets have grown more violent, begun looting. Why has there not been justice?”
Then, the tiny box grows bigger, taking up the entire screen
so that everyone can watch the video she said no one should see.
It was all too much
if She was being honest.
So She leaned forward until Her head went through the screen
and puffed out a breath
and blew the officer over.
And just as She pulled Her head back
Floyd gasped a violent breath
and opened his eyes.
Road of trials
Soul Magic
Restoring someone’s soul
is a difficult task.
Especially if the owner is very young.
At that age,
pieces break off as easily as
blowing on a dandelion.
And today,
a bullet flew past,
taking almost every wish with it.
To restore a soul,
you first need to know what broke it in the first place
so that you can determine if there is anything left.
Assuming you find something salvageable,
you can begin the process.
It’s a mending procedure,
you attach one end to another,
in hopes that they can hold each other up.
Occasionally it doesn’t work.
The two pieces incompatible,
or the stitches too noticeable.
But other times, it’s seamless.
The soul fuses itself together
and then creates new tissue
to replace what was lost.
There was a tragedy at a school,
so today is a soul nursing day.
Some souls have already departed,
but there is nothing you can do to stop a soul
that has decided to leave.
The first soul belongs to a boy, about 14 years of age.
He is slouched under a desk.
She kneels down next to him,
knees staining red,
and grabs his chin,
so that She can look into his eyes.
He blinks at Her,
confused but suddenly calm,
distracted by this Woman in front of him.
He is stronger than he looks.
Only a small piece of his soul has begun to peel,
despite the fact that his face is gaunt
and the floor carries rivers of red.
His eyes are wet
and his is heart slow
but his fists are clenched
and his soul is hot.
She breathes his soul into Her,
only for a moment,
two beings finding each other in the dark.
Soul magic is at work.
But as She pulls the flap back up
and begins to breathe out,
returning the soul to him,
the other side begins rip,
overstuffed.
A soul too strong
for the body it has left.
So She makes the only decision She can
and releases him into the air.
As his classmates breathe in,
they begin to sit up straighter,
feeling a healthy rage for justice.
Satisfied, She continues on
to attend to the rest.
Selenophile
Her love is like loving the moon
Even in the dark it plays a tune
Her love is always there
Even when the clouds refuse to share
Her love is like surviving a car crash
Or lightning during the flash
Her love is time itself
Infinite and full of wealth
Her love is forgiving
And touches everything living
Her love tastes like strawberries on a summer day
And sounds like the bells on Santa’s sleigh
Her love is a second chance
No matter the circumstance
Mama.
Yes?
Who is it that She loves if it wasn’t that boy?
She loves you, She loves me, She loves humanity. Despite everything, She loves us.
Daughter.
Yes, Mama?
Look here, come close. Look into my hands again— what do you see?
I see a city.
Yes, a skyline. Now twist your head a bit, what do you see now?
It looks kinda scary. Like crooked teeth, Mama. Biting the sky.
Okay, what do you see now when you look at it upside down?
Ooooh, it looks like paint drips! They’re coloring the sky!
Yes, baby. It’s beautiful isn’t it?
Yes, it is.
Do you see Her too? In the sky?
Oh wow. She’s so pretty.
She is. And Her skin is my favorite part. It feels infinite, full of depth.
Like tv screens?
Yes, like tv screens.
Mama, I don’t want Her to ever come down. I want Her to fly forever.
Oh, baby. Eventually Her feet must touch the ground again. In the same way that you must eventually grow up.
It isn’t fair. She should be able to fly forever.
Maybe, but to be selfless is to sometimes bring the heavens back to the earth.
Ruby Slippers
She was reading a book
when it happened.
The boundary between
page and ink,
stories and reality,
becoming fuzzy.
It was in this haze
that She saw the
wicked witch
and the people she oppressed.
She made Her decision quickly,
whipping up a tornado
without a second thought.
Flying houses,
floating cows,
red bicycles,
and a girl inside
with the ability to help them all.
The storm ended
just as quick as it had begun.
A yellow brick road
next to a patch of grass
beneath striped socks.
​
Black and white
lines stuffed into
ruby slippers.
Sparkles that glisten
candy red,
and a house like a cherry on top.
Mama, Mama, can you tell me about when She becomes a queen?
A little impatient tonight, aren’t we?
It's just soooo… magical… I want to be a queen someday too.
Don’t we all, baby. Alright, I’ll tell you about what She’s like as a queen.