Let me exist in your mind for a while:
Let twisted thoughts form roots to the ideas
That hang down like gray tendrils, while the fears
Just spread across the surface and defile
The landscape of your brain: much as the leaves
Can fall quite dry, then rot to pulpy mulch;
Damp hopes beneath my footfall won't divulge
The fantasies and dreams no one believes;
For where's the beauty and the wonderment
That would create the feelings which a kiss,
A passing touch, a caress can't resist;
You turn the other cheek; and you're content
To walk away and, with a look, dismiss
Me, if, in your mind, you find I exist.
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