The walls cave in everyday.
They’re thin; newspaper clippings,
And if you haven’t read one today,
There’s an article about how these walls cave in everyday.
I built a world of paper cranes,
With origami homes.
Stained fingers that folded life…blood…bone…
And I smiled at what I had done.
The living everyday are glass-blown,
Everyone of them sparkle.
And they are never alone.
Watching, reading, waiting
Until their walls
Cave in, and the sparkling glass shatters.
They blame this all on their torpid god.