The Jabberwock

I still dream in color, as if you were real
Next year is the hopeful blue of springtime mornings,
pale shivering light
We talk like giggling school girls instead of sniveling deviants & you’re going to school tomorrow & you’re going to kiss that white boy

I can touch you now, I couldn’t even then,
I trace trails of the bumps on your skin

if pimples were pearls,
you still wouldn’t be happy

I placed the core of the earth in my ribcage & gravity is holy
I reveal that burning in my chest to you & you decide right then & there that you could never leave me

Brushing your hair is like wrestling shadows
the gloom of your split-ends cover the button holes of your eyes

Blind broken boy
Born feet first & never forgot it

Your eyes dart about a dotted-line apology
the crackle of my smile says, it’s okay, let’s rest
I dream of you in rainbows, as if it were enough.

“Written about grief and in response to distressing dreams I’ve been having.”