Dust Bowl Dance

If I opened up your mind like a book, peeling back the layers,
To disclose the real you, that has been submerged under a
Tower of uncertainly, growing stronger, each passing day,
Would your mind reveal itself to me into a vast, open, serenity,
The wind spiralling with rage, dancing on the horizon,
Flying; towards me blowing dirt in my eyes.

The landscape, the epitome of all that you consider beautiful,
Tumbling reeds, fall softly, embracing the waters side,
titillating its senses, like a delicate after thought,
that descends with a soft pitter patter, echoing and recalling,
reflecting its perfection for all to see.

And would I be standing there centre stage, ready for your warm embrace,
Or would the coils of your past regrets, build a web around me,
So that however hard I fight, I will be trapped, just outside,
A finger’s length away, the dust trapped in the crease of my body,
Stinging my eyes, mixing with tears.