Licked the last envelope, pink and scented
like some dainty little night gown,
so that the right person opens it.
No tampering, not this time,
because I’m having a tea party.

Each invitation holds statements
worth the stretch marks of their birth.
Intentions, drawn out, a chalk
outline for the missing body.

Destination in ink so bold, it soaked
through the paper.
Follow it, chosen ones, like a herd of
blue jelly fish.

But eat first, feast on yourselves
and the mistakes that you have made -
The ones left on the edge of your beds
in order for you to dream zigzag dreams.
They sing zombie mockingbird lullabies,
the only reality you feel comfortable with.

Then wear bright ties like coloured nooses,
shoes like crocodile representatives.
Come strong, casually early and
take a seat, well dressed and fed

because there will be no tea tonight,
but you knew that all along.

 
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