Crescendo

bubble gum girl
hauntingly
serene in a room,
her cotton candy buns
aromatized by the
lulling gaze of a
crescent,
it follows her trail
of book adventures
and mispronounced
words for self,
some pictures are
timeless like rituals:
a vortex of neon clouds,
quietude,
a gaping crescent
and the paleness
of her lover's sweater,
she escapes the tremors
of her lover's falsetto
every new moon,
"read me," she implores
the palmists staring at
her from the vintage
dog-eared pages,
the lone moonwalker,
she dreams of grass
on moon; fluorescent
thin threads like
filigree