There
was warm.
Morning warm.
There
were blues and greens.
What
will you be when you grow up.
There
was rain.
She
pushed on the door.
The wood swells with the rain and the heat.
A mermaid, she said.
She
pushed on the door with the toe of her boot.
The bed was there and a painting of Jesus.
Outstretched arms and sunlit hair.
It
had fallen once, and the glass was cracked.
She
left it that way.
There
was wallpaper.
It
was yellow once. It used to have flowers.
The
walls buckled.
The
flowers were angry.
Where
will you live when you grow up.
Under
the sea.
Blues
and greens and sea salt hair.
There
were white bed sheets.
There
were streaks of rust.
She
scratched and scratched.
There
were pillows she kissed and pillows she bit.
There
was warm.
There
was rain on the floor.
Rodent smells and the rain and the heat.
There
were pills.
There
were pills.
Blues and greens.
How do you live. Under the sea.
Toe
of your boot.
Hold
your breath until Jesus comes.