Flopping and flying,
Red kites kissing whirl winds on beaches full.
Bloody screams from the fear of being left behind,
You are only four, with beige crystals on the balls of your feet.
Sticking to your skin the musky haze of sunsets.
Sitting on top of your teeth, the icy film of blueberries.
Underneath every fingernail, hides each hour spent awake.
Humid and calm is your small room,
You're only four and that is okay.
Plastic sails on strings above your head at night.
Sand in your sheets, blueberry breath.
Flopping and flying,
Red birds in the dark sky.
