Where did you find those colors?
Sewn into your dress
Quilts and sheets cover
All that mess

Moist little flowers
Nailed into the ground by stems
Removed by children
And their filthy little hands

On wooden swing sets that splinter
Off into tiny trees
We swung like giant pendulums
Fell off onto our knees

Where do old houses go?
Have they fallen to the ground?
Turned into fresh soil?
That we lay inside our mouths

Storm clouds can’t stop crying
And men bleed too much
If old souls were granted young skin
They’d be brawn, bone, and guts

Naked we arrived, into plastic rooms
Smelling of maternity
A gift to our families
Grown into stiff necks and bony hands