Gemstars fleck
the backs of your eyes
where you dive
when you’re sleeplooking
at dreams he’s clutched
inside his tiny fists.
I’ll sing you lullabyes,
and share them for you;
I’ll thread a loom
with skysilk
and weave
a moonsong blanket
to keep him dreaming.

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About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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