god told the planets to swirl around their orbits
and they swirl in my head
making me dizzy
when I try to figure out
the dark of eternity.
on the second
he added a mole on the witch's nose
to prove to his baby lambs
that grass isn't always as green
and the lambs have fallen
as it was an evening fairytale
for the prince
and maybe they shouldn't.
on the third day
in a rocking chair
in a house brick-red in colour
near the fireplace and porcelain
tableware with one plate chipped
in that place when its floral ornament starts
just like roses climbing on the wall of his house.
and when they slipped
into the room through the open window
into his afternoon cup
gaining the colour of tea
on the day that was meant to be the fourth
he made the water
and the sun
and the rain
in the seven stripes
of joy that divided the sky
on the fifth day he was fatigued
and his quickened breath blew the snow
off the sharp cloud-capped crags
so he laid himself on the carpet of moss
and it became softer
under the touch of his fingertips
and forest ants hollowed out underground corridors
along the lines of his fingerprint.
on the sixth day
he sank in his own shape stamped in the sand
and called the water by its name.
stupid water obeyed the order
and it sails there and
to this day.
waiting for the daddy
and when the stupid father doesn't come
it frowns its sea-foam forehead
and destroys sand castles
made by the children whose feet it encounters.
and in the end
on the seventh day
he laid himself
on the clouds of celestial
and became the birdsong
sung by Lady Bird.
now he doesn't weigh more
than the Lady's
In the number of seven.