Candy-coloured building blocks drop from the sky.
I am the builder. It’s my job to pull them into
Even lines, not to stop their falling, but
To ease them into waiting spaces. There’s music, too,
To contend with. It sets a pace, or maybe I do.
The blocks flutter down like confetti, Rubik’s cube shrapnel,
So I breathe and gather myself. There’s work to be done here.