Pearl’s Dream

There’s a place we must roam
feel the warmth of the sun –
beaming streaks,
between branches and leaves.
Where she talks to woodland creatures,
finger paints with huckleberry juice,
where we roll our bodies along the coniferous floor.
Can you meet me here?
Where they can’t find us.
Where we outrun their stones. 
Meet me at the X
on the map on my tongue. 
Do you see the roses
blossom in my pupils?
They bloom for you.