Fairytale

The silver in the gorge is splashing green;

Quick, catch those rays with nets of disbelief.

Ride the unicorn in flight with me (what if

I fall? Will you, too, fall with me?) and mean

Each word you say. Around your throat I lean,

A chain of words and song. Pearl. Ruby. Leaf.

Watch: angels drinking in their founts of grief.

The shimmering breeze enchants all sights we’ve seen:

Now sleep! oh, sleep; because it is in dream

That these realities we habit seem

To fall apart. Distract yourself with glee,

Futilely lash against the storm of day—

Is there a chance we might yet break away?

(What if I fall? Will you, too, fall with me?)

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