tokyo

'sorry, they're still asleep,'
mama moon says to you when you drop
by. you squint and try to look for their dormant
figures behind the door from where mama
moon peaks her head out— it is rather
cold outside—
but it's all dark and fuzzy.
'it's okay, i'll come back next time,'
you tell her,
and she smiles apologetically at you.

deep down you know they will never wake up.