the night my stuffed animals came to life

the moon was a fruit snack
i plucked & chewed. in that darkness
we made a plastic fire & dipped our eyes
in black water. i consulted 
with them, we sat in a circle
in a frosted field. we talked about
gold & silver. we asked each other 
to stick out our pink felt tongues.
all the cars turned palm-sized.
no one had a father. no one had
a to morning soon wake up in. 
the night lengthed 
to the size of a quilt. took turns
singing loudly in the bathroom. 
a tooth brush wept. we all confessed
what we needed to. we all put cherries
on top. a lollipop grew from 
between the floor boards
& in the basement a soft alligator
taught his lover, an orangutan, to play oboe.
i told them all to never go to sleep.
no more night sky, just the house
& the yard inky-expanding. 
we felt our stuffing: beads & sand 
& cloud. in the kitchen,
the fridge shed it's skin & emerged
shiny & ready for anything. 
i'm telling you this because i miss 
my slippers & my beautiful potted violet.
someday i want to be shelved
& dusted like a book. will you help me
scrub the last knot out of my eyes?
we were good animals once.
with blood & ailment & useless ache.
next, i'll be sewn shut. how do you mend 
these days? i miss the moon
even though it's my fault.

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