Alone

Alone
I have a dream

of lies, good lies
that will allow me
my needed
unrealized hope
to have a silence
a silence serious,
and definable.

But you
with this love
That you should not have.

You DARE
to hand me all the pretty pretty treasures I have asked for
which have nearly rotted
longer than you have grasped them
with your eager untutored hands
You open your palm and
grant too many things to me
easily

far too easily

I should be kind
and you will see me gentle
each day, as is the
soft attic of my heart

but there is a place
take steps down
and down
and down
where you touch
the earth and know
the soil turns ugly here
frightening, with bones cracked
and wanting

it is so much better
to breath deeply
and

step back

finding conventional lies and welcoming those instead.

February 2001