forgotten ferris wheel
remembering to believe in the beauty of yourself
i crave beauty the way an
addict does a cigarette
close my eyes and breathe it in
(yet sometimes it’s not here — only in me)
i’d die for one morsel of pollen dust
to become real and leave my thalamus
that warm-sun field i dream of
would be a place i can put myself in
and not just have reside in me
vining beauty lives on resolutely inside of me
needing not rod nor cone to be seen
i see it
i wish these tears would turn to hail
and every ruined thing’s beauty would prevail
prevail in me and grow freely
i should write it down
talks of war and death surrounds
but i traipse through meadows in pure white gown
nothing can touch me
no, nothing can touch me
memories flicker across cold, mute sky
but i am in full color, still alive
i draw this curtain back and wonder if
beneath the surface, this world within
is my gift to make a grey world gleam
ferris wheels and dandelions
the smell of grass, the stars arising
what if i believed in me?
what if i wrote it down?
