The only mystery girl colors herself completely orange
as she insists on eating mosquitoes before snack-time,
an audacious demand considering what she used to be—
a glistening blue, volitional pony, sole inhabitant
of the symptomatic ocean. And the more orange the ocean,
the more the only mystery girl wishes she wasn’t
the only mystery girl. She has no interest in snack-time,
but no keys hang noiselessly from the warden’s keyring.
In all likelihood, the only mystery girl will place herself
inside the many empty wineglasses left after snack-time.
The warden, as usual, will use one to trap the fruit flies,
but she’ll color the rest completely blue, a color she still loves.
