Invitation To Tea
We sit in a corner huddled over
by Ballerina With Fins
idle dreams and sweet second sight;
serving out tea and flaky chatter
in a imperceptible bubble of bliss
that will never break. We are the children that
know everything about the world, except
in complete unawareness of it.
No more the BogeyMan; He who
comes after us in dark dreams,
but cannot cross that line that we
have created with speckled crayons.
We are no longer
in comforting arms and we find ourselves,
now and then,
wishing, for the ghosts of our childhood
to come back to us, haunting us in our sleep
and never fading away.
To all: the dark stranger in the hollow night
the little girl with golden curls singing,
the man with heroin-bloodshot eyes;
we are all part of this mysterious planet, so
may we all converse over a cup of delightful tea
one day, when we are all young again.