Was she told?
Would you hold
her gaze? Oh,
what big eyes she has

Spends her days
dimming
swimming in fictional splinters
studying clouds in the mirror

Afraid of her own feet, now
Of her own f i n g e r p r i n t s
On the handle
Was her hand there?
Mincing the mattress, now
Why is there only red hot darkness

Spends her days
bringing cakes
trimming some sharp-edged rainbows
Stuttering; spring isn´t hope.

Little blue ate all the fruits
Felt all the roots
Ripped all the flowers;
She´s on a truce.
Little blue knows
It´s just a myth
It´s for the better
All the better
To eat you with