A blind dreamer lays his head upon my brow

As I tell him all the lies my mouth can muster

How the grass under us shimmers

Like the scales of darting fish

Startled by our kisses

How the dark is actually made of treacle

And light is just a rope dangling from a star

And how the eye drinks it all

I kiss him again

Thirsty for memories

But when he asks me what truth looks like

I keep silent, I don't know, and I fidget

Ignore his question and I whisper

There's no such thing 

There's only what we believe in

There is no grass, there is no silver

No faith that can walk on water

Only the dream of two liars

I kiss him again 

Grateful he can only see with his fingers

11 April 2020