Tracing upon youth’s bitter edge,
so practiced in deceit,
they adore and desire
all they cannot keep.
Ten smiles hang upside down
falling from tangled branch
beneath.
The wishing tree weeps in
moments suspended upon
threads of white yarn
rendered bloody in fingerprints
crimson stained, frayed, and worn.
The children laugh, madly
reveling in their accomplishment
as beauty dances for them all,
hair down, breasts slow to breath
before she falls and falls and falls.
With blade raised high
they sever her strand and sigh.
Their fading smiles come to rest
in worship against her body,
so silent and still
as they softly whisper,
goodnight and goodbye.
