my brain capsizes in my skull

exposing the thoughts I pushed underneath

like dust below a rug

—dirt and filth I pretend to think 

makes up your soul—

but brushes off to find your words of gold and jewel

that somehow sneak in

to tarnish my imagined worlds 

(in which I may soar or breathe a sweet gasp of ocean water)

and make me obey gravity and oxygen, 

to recreate my conventional existence.

they taunt me, with just a flicker of your radiance