Maybe if I let you in my head,
you'd lift the lid and climb inside
to cozy up with things
like work today, and things to write,
and songs to learn and choices
to discern,
or maybe you'd go deeper,
groping for unlikely hopes
amid a menagerie of unquiet
thoughts, squawking and flying
as if to turn your gaze
away from what is real.
But maybe if you spread apart
the tendrils of my thoughts,
you'd find a lonely mirror,
outlining the gracious curves
of your face, your nose and ears,
all soft in the corners of my head.
And maybe you would believe
you're all that's on my mind.
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