It’s a raft the fairy used to latch onto
the stars.
Everyone shared with anyone they can.
A gold silk mess hangs from my windowpane,
attached with purple cotton.
I open the window and turn around.
This is a different affair.
The one I liked came then.
Surrounded my head inside and out,
covered me with pink and white.
There’s a room with one occupant
and that is them.
With mahogany fidgets I land
at the window.
Soft,
and
purple,
I pine.
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