When Reminded Of Our Universe

It’s all wrong.
The features of the cliff faces
in the Southwest, the spots
on the tail of the gecko.
The shadows under her eyes
while she reads in the dark
with a flashlight under her covers.
Their constant need to own,
and to be owned.

It gets too dark in the deep
parts of the ocean.
They were supposed to
be able to see.
They spend too much time
on the art design, for the places
that they meet with me.
I worried from the beginning
that I was too harsh.
That I didn’t give them enough.
I hate the way they talk to me.
Do they hear the way they sound?

If I’m the lord of anything
it’s breaking my own rules.
The faintness of the stars
gives me a headache.
I should have made them brighter
so they could see them in the day,
but now that it’s all put away.
I don’t think I could fix it
if I tried.

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