White, watery worlds of cleaned thoughts roll away from me in this universe made of my flesh and bone. The fear in my prayer. The tearing in your chest as the last leaf falls on a planet I cannot remember. Stifled bruises show up at the most conspicuous moments. I am my own gravity, drawing my love and my baby toward me eternally like a bowling ball in a water bed. All else rolls away until I’m left with a thin, shiny film of memory eternally falling into itself.
Miniature Moon 