Be it my moon in Taurus 

or another celestial configuration

I treasure simple, soft things

The old stuffed animal

a warm pair of alpaca socks

the blanket I absconded with 

before it could be presented 

as a gift to an unborn infant.

 

There is little growth to be found

in comfortable things,

I understand

yet, I have loved them most of all.

 

I am a child

who has repeatedly decided

to find my way back into wombs

of my own creation

and through these blanket fort portals

I have found the safety to search 

for true reflections of myself. 

 

I refuse to put away childish things

I will bring them 

and their magic with me–

it begins with a choice

to take off the shoes you gave me 

swing open the front door

rename myself as stardust

in pursuit of the lost romance 

of being undeniably alive.