invisible friend

She can't see his eyes,
round and muddy blue bubbles
of lake water mounted above a bloated grin.
 

The sky is a shark,
gray and toothy at midday.
 

Laughter splashes throughout the house:
Children imagine their futures;
adults bathe in sunny memories.
 

He bites her when no one is watching. 

The tender pale of childhood reddens under his summer heat.
She covers her heart,
shading it from his burning gaze,

presses her cheek into the earth,
imagining each blade as a whisker
on the soft and innocent face of a kitten.

She is a cat,
playfully jumping through hoops,
unaware that his actions tame her.

"I want to go inside," he says.
She always does what he wants,
so she smiles, saying nothing;
it's silly to speak to an invisible friend.