Her world’s different than the world she saw.
In her head dirt can talk & trees are lords.

You will think her mad if she speaks out loud.
You may fancy her a fairy but you know her not.

One day she lost her innocence to dream,
trapped in the prison of the strangest gleams.

She doesn’t know why and what she has to lose,
slowly she retreats to a place that’s..

Suspended in nowhere a glass bubble hangs,
inside its safety a scared creature hides
who can no longer grow old or wise.

Finally she realizes what she has to lose
& starts to take down what’s no longer of use.

One by one she let strangers in to share a little dream,
re-creating a world only this time the outside is in.

Do you know…
your freshly dried hair
make the sound of
thousands of tiny silver bells
when they are tousled?
You are precious to me.

Do you see…
when you take a bath
under candle-light,
there spread diamonds
on your golden skin?
You are precious to me.

Do you hear…
your thoughts
as they
hit the right timbre
echoing in my dusty & grim chamber?
You are precious to me.

Do you taste…
the fertile sea,
whiffs of
salts & organic matter
amalgamating a single entity?
You are precious to me.

Do you feel…
the unspoken innuendo
getting cold
while new colors
rushing forward in glee?
You are precious to me.

Do you pray…
less because you are
afraid or helpless
but for those if without
you would never see as clearly?
You are precious to me.

Do you sing…
that wordless, formless song
got passed down down
and still it’s the way it is
& you understand?
You are precious to me.

Do you fly…
to a place that
no-one-can-see-
everything-can-see-
you-see-that-you-can?
You are precious to me.

Do you write…
like a slaver
building cages for meanings
with words that
can never quite cut it?
You are precious to me.

Do you gaze…
into the deep, find comfort there,
lose yourself, bring it back,
(back & forth) x 2
ever since you became afraid of that one thing?
You are precious to me.

I like the hair.
I like the diamonds & gold.
I like the sound, the salt, the song, the thoughts.
I am precious to me.

I see that look in your eyes,
like you are tired of your station in life.
Waiting for the sign with closed eyes,
click after click wasted time.

You think maybe you have something extra,
you fear that there’s something you lack.
Always the one being knocked down,
never can be sure what’s right what’s wrong.

One day you look up it starts to make sense,
walking too long in someone else’s footsteps.
The same map everyone’s buying and selling,
they ain’t heartless they are just as clueless.

See yourself as the one in your own mind,
say no to the wrong things the right ones will align.
It’s not going to be easy the first step or mile,
but what if you are right and what a story to tell.