Coloured chiffon dream

I toss my coloured chiffon dream to the stars.
Silver catchers hang from my bedside and worry.
Stars could one moment watch me dangle,
at last,
wrapped in perfect little flowers.
The jewellery of broken sleep.

It is so crowded under the ocean.
Stuck with
people and perils.

There is a ripped and magnetic place made of
my dream.
The other space, my amethyst scare.

Drowned velvet wings that turn into coloured stars,
anytime,
anywhere.

I was stuck in a random pink calm.
Things break under foot.
There are stars left,
lost.

I didn’t always glow.