With the strength of a boxer swinging wildly,
your plush red fists pummel the sky to purple,
spotted with black clouds and streaks of blue.
The blood pools under the sun’s eye like a pond
that forms only after a storm. You have blinded
the light. We are thrown into darkness as our
one and only hot star, holds a thick red steak
over her eye. After days of nothing but night,
our skin fades to a virginal white. We forget
what the trees look like when they’re not
hunched over, their limbs clutching their
swollen bellies that rumble with hunger.
You must teach us how to survive in this.
Our ache for the light is an insatiable itch.