The Clouds
She grew up watching the clouds,
Cotton candies and sheep in the sky.
The three year old watched the sheep prancing.
Chase the sheep, Daddy said.
When she turned 13, she puffed clouds of smoke.
The burning cigarette around her lips.
It was also the time she had her first kiss.
Puff puff puff. She breathed in the clouds.
She was 18, when she was on cloud nine.
It was the moonlight and the stars in the skies;
On the ground, around the daisies.
She laid with her lover, he was the moon.
The next morning, the skies were clear.
Where are the clouds, she searched.
Her lover was gone, like the moon.
She searched, puff. Puff. Puff.
The clouds were no solace;
She sat, breathing in more clouds.
Floating above the ground, high above,
She soared, thick white smokes of ecstasy.
That summer, her lover was back.
Like the sun, sharp in her eyes.
She looked him in the eyes,
blinded in love, her head in the clouds.
She was 20, when the clouds thundered.
The skies dark, like her heart.
A stream of river on the pillow case;
Puff. Puff. Puff. She climbed the clouds.
I’ll chase the clouds, Daddy.
The sheep and the cotton candy.
She walked and walked, following the clouds.
Into the horizon, into the sea.
