Allocating Sun Rays

She's
clutching glitter,
fist-fucking her ear canal
allocating sun rays
to spew
from a mouth that speaks shards of glass.

He's
knee deep,
wallowing in a childhood rut
cursing his mother
for failing
to teach perception: the mud-hole as a pond.

She's
carving butter knife etchings,
pleading for him to read,
to comprehend his own potential-
to finally see:


"It wouldn't have mattered if she was around
when it only takes a tablespoon to drown;
floaties and crutches are both elective,
bag your buderns with more selection."