The yellow belt of the sunset would be nice around my neck

Like a lego hand, clicked onto its lego tool

I want to feel my legs lift off the ground

Swaying like heavy leaves in the chanting wind

My mouth will open slow and wide

As a cloud drifts in

And makes a home

In the space behind my molars

Where I keep all my wishes

It’s ready to eat them, if I don’t speak them fast enough

Perfect