Children believe they can vanish
As long as they can’t see the world

I go to the window curtain
I don’t look out on the world
The curtain flows to the floor
I wrap it around me and softly I sing
A new song of wandering words
My voice feels held in the curtain
It’s warm and it’s so secure

No doubt there’s a child shaped mass,
Wrapped in the velvet drape,
And my feet poke out on the floor.
I have no awareness of that,
Only the warmth in darkness
And the song of the wandering words.
I don’t exist anymore.