Inside the underneath of lavender scented fever foreheads there is a hush now.
Hush now and then again when you are a woman and grow your own garden. I've been delivered moonlit days and sleepy coffee. There's sad in my happy and short in my long.
A very long short time ago there was a little girl who said she was a big girl. She fell through cracks in the cement, but walked on the water.
She had a kitten who wasn't a rabbit but she called him rabbit anyway. Cherry blossoms in the air (in her hair) were Fairy wings.
"Who plucked them off? Why so many? Aren't the Fairies sad?"
Hush now. Anything is something is nothing is all things here in the inside underneath. I'm the Queen. I make the rules.