Time’s Child Now

I walked up to your box-car-in-drag,
with the blue sapphire bunting,

you looked like a punk pirate girl siphoning dreams into the sea,
pulling in urchins and anemones around you,

your heart stopped but your head still wild,
a barrio street dancer in dream face,

mouth sprung and waiting,
clothes pinned on around you

snug in your new tortoise shell home,
with a new set of those cute little dimples you always wanted

you are spilling over waterfalls not yet born,
bent over time’s wheel, cascading–

don’t look back now, babe.

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