messy wisdom

Mom knew I loved outer space so like a wandering star

she slipped into my bedroom

constructed the cosmos on the ceiling with cheap tacky,

a glow-in-the-dark nebula of comets and stardust

And in the light of the aurora,

she carefully painted my walls carnation pink

with a baby blue trim

and hemmed clandestine gardens of

fairies romping in flowers yet to bloom

Often in twinkling nights,

the fairies would waltz

along with her soft hum in the distance

And when my world was enveloped in darkness,

black holes ever cavernous,

I’d look up to Mom’s constellations

And remember how she gave me the sky.