Food for thought
Likely the moon isn’t cheese
but I keep enough of it in my fridge
to know it’s still pretty cold up there
when nothing is going to expire
so likely the sun isn’t butter
but it spreads across the sky
when the air tastes like salt
like kissing my CF baby
and likely the stars aren’t
white chocolate chips but I know
my mother used to keep them
in the freezer so it’s even colder
to ride on a star and likely the
trees aren’t pillars of truth or
any kind of leafy vegetable
but I know in winter this white sky
is poured over them
and likely I’m just a speck that fell
onto the ground of earth
waiting to be swept away.
