Opportunity

I would paint my hair a different shade of confidence

dye my skin with primrose blush

carve my bones like ornate glass

tie my shoes with deep-reaching roots

to lock a fluttering mind in gold.

I would chip the paint of darkened irises

unwrap the gifts hidden in the corners of foggy recollection

pluck the strings of the Queen of Hearts

turn on the sun to frighten away the shadows

that clutch at ankles and drag us down.

I would fill the air with ticker-tape dreams

scatter slips of hope in history books

chain balloons to fragile wrists

dust the shelves of greater men

who need a space to store their might.

I would shape the clouds like DNA

fill the gaping holes in the sky

plant feathers in fledglings' wings

water the stars to see planets grow

so children can daydream to infinity.