Number 22

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder how long is far!
Has your light be stolen or what,
Whilst my eyelids down they shut?

Tinkle, crinkle, little star,
Shake that dust off your scars,
Have they ever, ever yelled at you,
"Who am I talking to?!"

Whittle, sprinkle, little star,
Sow the pledges of a racing car,
Of a marriage that finally ends,
Of a show that never commences.

Tremble, brittle, little star,
Don't fall now, stay where you are,
It's your light I cannot bear,
All my skin of you is aware.

Now pause your whims, little star
I swear, this time
I'll pause mine,
And to this night again
I'll sleep just fine.








Number 11

Lying on the hollow of your neck
leading the way to the scar
running through your back, it ends
at my fingertip coming
at the night, brittle night
broken with the promises
you don’t dare to make
you forgot you told.