It’s mine only underneath

The stones I’ve asked

To turn themselves over,

Spread their Truth like animals

Who only want love.

There are hallways and boulevards,

Two-seater cars and run-flat wheels.

The scent of uncomfortable silence

Has worked its way

Into my hair, and I see

The flies buzzing in your eyes

As you witness me

And my descent into madness.

When I slip out of the door

Of that dream and pop up,

Unannounced and underdressed

To a finely tuned aristocrat’s ball,

I will seek you out

And tell you every single word

That I’ve ever heard,

Every prayer and cliche

That have been dumped

On me and thousands of others.

You’ll blush and ask for my name,

Because you lose the memories of our

In-between, midnight-crossing

Brainwaves.

I want you to know, at the very least,

That all the beauty in my dreams

Stays underneath those stubborn stones.