Later, in the China Shop.

Well, now we’re awake.
We waited until the thunder had died down,
the crashing of crockery, the snorting.
Don’t imagine that we’re clearing up that mess.
Our bodies do not come with a broom as a permanent appendage,
or a kettle and teapot.
This isn’t haberdasher’s glitter on these gowns,
they are spun from a fabric far from here.
Don’t waste your precious hours trying to tear
at our skirts, they are unrippable.
And don’t fool yourself,
you are not the centre of the universe,
the omphalos.

We’ll let ourselves out.

Linking this to The Sunday Muse Blogspot, where Carrie has supplied some Gemini-inspired images. ( and to Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt to write poetry or prose of exactly 91 words, using the word ‘omphalos’ (