Amidst toy guns and painted ponies
stillness supercedes the evening to come
As clothes are tossed to the bed.
I'm not a date anymore,
a wife in holding or keeping
The water runs not too hot
Soon the family will be home and the mom
I am leaps from me as if I forgot.
I tune a residueless rhyme in my head
place a towel on the shelf and hide not skin
and bones between porcelin and milk salts.
 
Another day in time
I see myself fly the trapeez and stroke a lion's
mane.
Glitter age not gone, resting