I have carved a new life
Out of paper and clay
One that can so
Swiftly be washed away
By breeze or tornado,
By drizzle or storm,
By freezing or chill,
By fire or warm…
When the people came to play,
I put them all to sleep.
But dormant like volcano mouths,
Their fires I must keep.
Packaged up like porcelain dolls
In boxes in the dark,
They’re cozy, warm, and dangerous
For when they break, they’re sharp.
Little demons run away,
Come again on yesterday…
