Every Thing (another valentine)

Mornings are dishes, dishes,
then decisions.

But one filled-up tank of gas,
these circles of things we say

then the Maharajahs themselves
could not be this happy.

Like squirrels giddy as leaves in a breeze
(So far: We = Pharaohs = squirrels = leaves)

So tracked, there is no fairytale,
just an adventure spun for kids like us

(like ours)

lying thick on shores of lullabies
versed in waves and sighs ellipses.

_