Little Mocchi-Mocchi

Little Mocchi-Mocchi is a cuddly thing

With plump button cheeks and a cutesy tuft of fur.

It flops and waves its grabby little mitts

As it dances and sings,

Joyful and hungry for adventure

Like the little darling princess that wills it to life.

They may not have much, but they still have each other.

Surveying the land, hiding in mischief,

Peeking above a pudgy cushion castle

Messily decorated with biscuit crumbs and melon chunks.

There is paint on dainty, waggling toes

Tipping and tapping along the wall

Naughtiness afoot!

They are skipping on the moon together

With giggles and breathless play.

Little Mocchi-Mocchi and its darling little princess

Knit each other tightly, against squeezy soft tums

That chortle and bob for more play to come.

Little Mocchi-Mocchi is a cuddly, dusty thing

With half-buttoned cheeks and many tufts of stuffing

Poking out all over.

It flops without vim as it presses motherly

Against the darling little princess, pinned breathless to the floor.

There is brown and white and lots and lots of red

On dainty sockless toes – at least six –

Gliding and searching along what remains of her bedroom wall.

Crumbles and chunks of stone and brick chew at her ribs

And gorge on her navel.

She notices her tum is squeezier than she thought

As the hours drag on.

Flashes and rumbles in the periphery;

She gathers the strength to shuffle her head

Towards the men with clumpy hats and goggles.

They are smiling and clapping and filming and cheering

So they must be nice men.

Long black barrels with blinding torches

Meet the puffy eyes of the little darling princess

Streaked wet with sad and hurt;

They seem happy to see her.

The men crouch, prodding the withered bony sticks

That clutch a pebble with tiny, numbing fingers.

Their lips move against a backdrop of ringing,

Giddy, muffly sounds that can almost be heard.

Amongst them -

“One less”.

The nice happy men sink away into the clouds.

One remembers to pick out a dress

As he etches a mark into his hat.

Her head shifts back to the comfort of rubble,

The Little Mocchi-Mocchi and its darling little princess

Nuzzle against each other,

With whatever is left of each other.

Eye-to-eye, gazes stitched and slowly warming,

They faintly recall the skipping and dancing

With quiet, crumpling smiles.

A bright yellowy hotness washes around them

And they finally reach the moon together.