the sky was heavy the day
i decided i liked orange
and pink together, torn
down the gray, octopus
curtain and placed a flower
bombed flag in its place,
sprinkled bits of periwinkle
to calm the delight
a shocked, blank edge calling
and i would sink into the heat
of a long bath, another too
cold day—the sun has slept
for weeks in Seattle—
and float between the shattering
like when i was very small, like
a torn hibiscus bleeds and
laying face-up in a kiddie pool,
legs a tad too long and splayed
in the time-eating heat
i tried to rub the sun from my eyes
but it just sunk in more
until i could see it behind
closed lids—
was a dream in focus
my body a boat
adrift and still
sought out the halting heat that
pauses every thing
this version of me, just
a little bit more time.