I’ll wear rainbow socks under blue sheets,
and make myself a sky.
I’ll wear a green shirt for the earth,
whistle for the birds, and tap
my fingers for the pad of paws.
I can form towns with a few inches of fabric,
make an ocean with my pillow,
and turn my knees into a mountain range.
I’ll mark the passing of days with a pencil
on the walls, for you if you’re watching.
I’ll see my old world only as red light
under my eyelids, a soft glow that is
all I can withstand from the place
marked to me by your absence.