Fortune Teller
I’m the girl with kaleidoscope eyes
and tornadoes in my brain
Moths beat their powdery wings
within my ribcage
My skin has become vellum
tomes of poetry incarcerated in my heart
The keys to my kingdom dangle
just out of my reach
My life remains a delicious torture
as foretold by the gypsy in the ragged carnival tent
Where is the man in boots she spoke of
He remains forever hidden in the shadows
of my melancholy