The paddle hangs from
A single nail on the wall
A bodyless doll on the night stand
Amongst extensive lists
Date night recommendations
In the future they will laugh at us
Or perhaps just wonder
The gift that strangers give
Will no longer be a mystery
The secret knowledge
Like a backstage door
Will be where all of us
Enter the arena
Those fleeting thoughts
Will simply be,
Never having to be escaped to
We’ll let our potter’s wheel spin
And passionately speak of glass
And raise each other’s children
Nothing like our own
Beef Jerky Clouds 