Down the stairs, first door on the right. Don’t fret, I refuse to lock it. Don’t mind the blood-colored residue that coats your palm after turning the knob. It’s iron oxide, an electrochemical process that you don’t need to worry about just now. You better shut the door behind you.
She winks at me from a bed a stars
Her idealized formed languorously spread across a mostly-shadowed moon
Come a little closer, she seems to say
The sky is not truly that distant
You feel as if she has made the whole thing just for you
That she kept that figure after birthing the night
Relax. You will become an adult. You will figure out your career. You will find someone who loves you. You have a whole lifetime; time takes time. The only way to fail at life is to abstain.