In the nuthouse,
They keep your dreams for you
Like a neatly folded
Pair of eyeglasses.
When the stars turn to sand,
The earth's skin receives them
Until her body itself shifts and flows
Like a pretty summer dress.
I tell you these things, darling, because
Any day, my very bones could change.
I could find myself stepping silently across a wide desert at night,
With the echo of Anubis in my eyes;
And though the Goddess herself forbade it,
I would carry your name with me across all borders
Like a twin,
Or a rising moon on a silver chain.