i've loved a lot of jungle gyms

invited them into my house to sleep
even though they should sleep outside
where they can get 
their nightly serving
of ripe stars & headlights.
i have crumpled jungle gyms 
into balled up pieces of paper.
i have filled bowls with mulch 
& poured them on my bed room floor 
in the hopes a slide might grow 
beside my bed by morning. 
criss-crossing bars to hang from
i dangle upside down 
from a jungle gym
in my closet where all my clothes
turn into children to play on the bars.
one child doesn't climb.
is afraid of heights. 
i never understood that. 
i've always
been afflicted with wanting 
to climb out open windows.
a jungle gym pacing in the hallway
hungry but too tired to leave.
a jungle gym taking up half the bed 
& i am falling asleep & climbing anyway.
i go outside 
& feed on stars & headlights
greedy handfuls. all mine
not sharing. my clothing scampering 
on the sidewalk & singing 
inaudible rhymes 
jumping invisible rope.
i try to join but they snarl
& run. a slide blooms where 
we once had the big staircase up
to our apartment so i have to climb up
on my hands & knees. 
squeak of the plastic slide. 
the moon tries to crawl in after me
& it's lucky it's a half-moon
or else it wouldn't fit. 
thick strong fingers. knuckles 
like door hinges. a jungle gym 
howling at the door frame.
a jungle gym raiding the fridge.
me stroking the jungle gyms
& telling them calm down & 
even metal has to sleep.
this makes them furious. 
how dare i tell them how use a skeleton.
i tell them a story 
about each boy i've loved 
& they are horrified & decide
they will never love anyone. 
the clothing children
hang themselves back up on hangers
& the sun kisses the moon boldly
on its neck. scared & ravenous 
the jungle gyms beg me to tell them 
all my favorite memories of their bodies.
how could i not?
i re-trace myself. i remember myself 
with softer skin. 
i kiss cool foreheads & threaten them
with jumping out the window.
they beg me not to.
each slides down the slide to leave 
& when they're gone i miss them.
i got out the next night to see them
playing in the splotches of grass 
by the parking lot. they laugh 
with swing-set tongues.