(Poems of Pluto 3) I Played Mario with the Sun

I took a picture of the sun

while she wasn’t looking.

I’m sorry.

 

I knew asking would only

brighten the flames

embolden

the teeth.

 

I wanted something to call my own.

Anyone can want the sun;

No one else

gets to play Mario with her.

 

So I captured her,

in this single moment where

my couch was her home

my voice

her touchstone.

 

I wonder how far

Pluto’s voice

carries

in the void between

my couch

and the center of

her chest?

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