Seduction of a five year old.
She told them her feet were cold.

She was limp and uninviting
Short haired and dreaming
Of dragonfly wings in the morning
Of milkless Nutri-Grain
Of learning how to whistle
And a dog named Pixie.

It's the red on my lip
And the twenty dollar tip.
Umbrellas in my pockets
Child dreams of blasting rockets.

And still they launch.

It's the bile in my throat
And it's everything she wrote.
Your sweet naivity
Of baby blue and gold nativities.

And still they launch.

Will it take a body bag to believe me?
Will it take nothingness to relieve me?

(She's sweating in the middle of a cold night
Her grandmama says "it's not good, it's not right.")

Is it love? Is it gout?
I've left my door open
So you can walk out

Is there nothing beneath my coat, this doubt?

All I can smell is the gingerbread men
Marching between the sheets
With red hats and sweet treats

They don't know how to act
Which roleplay to enact

For the voice that pleases me
Is hiding in the deep blue sea
They whimper and they feel
All the things they could not heal
And run as far as their sweet calves
Can manage.

She is the glass woman
One look and you're shattered

Forget everything that mattered
Your heart is in tatters

There's some blood on your neck
That gets you unawares
It's her love, it's her love
The way to show she cares

She is the glass woman
One touch and you're in pieces

Spread out upon a linoleum floor
The stupid fool she couldn't hold on for.

My eyes keep rolling back into a perfect sky
I've learnt to become the silent passerby
My steps become a lullaby
Night is not the time to cry

I'll just keep passing by
Won't look you in the eye
Won't ask you for the time
The bus is not the place to cry

My hands are weak they will not grip
They cannot wave or point or rip
Hanging limply by my side
Screaming out loud is not the way to cry

A short black dress with two sugars.

Grinds in the pockets and in between the tiles
Kicking colt legs and tiny little smiles
Nails stained brown held fast to spinning dials
Flirting with the coffee drains, milk for miles.