on estrangement 

on holidays, i sleep in the extra space ship.
it is my fault the house is full of forks.
for so long i tried to live on different moons.
one had a frozen ocean. another had star-eyed fish.
the last was desolate except for a pile
of broken picture frames. they were empty. 
don't worry though, the space ship doesn't work.
not any more. it is just a lovely place to plant
your teeth & wait for them to become roses.
tell me, who has grown you roses? i am waiting.
last week a friend asked me, "what is rest to you?"
i said, "not thinking of what comes next."