I whisper into your perfect ears,
those floppy fortune cookies
on the sides of your head.
Each one reminds me of a crescent moon
drawn by Dali,
a surrealist sculpture,
a labyrinth,
a cliff edge tunneled
by trillions of tides.
They catch all the sounds
like this one,
swirled into your heart
at the end of a long day
close your eyes
this is your mama singing
you to sleep.