WHEN SWEETNESS SLEEPS

A sun-child is a moon-child gone,
Who learned to smile and just hold on.
Like papayas forced to ripen fast,
She wore a skin that couldn't last.

They sold her glow in golden jars,
But dimmed her dreams, eclipsed her stars.
She spoke in light, but breathed in night-
A fading flame dressed up in bright.

Her laughter cracked like painted glass,
Too thin to hold the weight she'd pass.
A sweetness missing in her care,
She looked complete, but felt no more.

But somewhere quiet, far from eyes,
Where no one shapes, and no one buys,
She'll ripen slow beneath the moon-
Forgotten, yes- but sweet and soon.

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