mash

the preteen origami
of my heart
folded in on itself
looking for answers
writ in crayon
on crinkled folded wings
manipulated by fingers dancing
as a paper mouth maws the air
and I wonder
who and how and where
it will stop
hope it lands
on my mash
handsome and dashing
and not on heartbreak
careening and crashing

auguries in a childish prop

meaningless
still...
fingers crossed