I am scooping dreamsicle icicles

Looking at the orange cup in my right-side-sink

Down at the red nightshirt

Orange-red.

My skin saturated 100

Bursting citrus smack

Luminating into birth with a sneeze,

I am a matchstick.

Patient for a candle,

a floor,

smoldering house,

burning block,

engulfed city.

Until

I am a star snacking on a solar system (ours)

A cosmic disaster clinging to natural.

And I am looking at the dreamsicles

dripping from the gutters.

It is better this way.