As we lay
in the sharp blades of wet grass
You told me that
Theoretically
We all turn to walls
When we don’t know

I’m not quite sure
I understood.

My focus might have drifted.

Up and away

Theoretically,
I knew what you were
Talking about.

But, as you continue to carefully manipulate your words
So as to show your intellect
To the crowd of people who only appear in your dreams,

I wonder if,
Perhaps,
I might gaze upon glistening galaxies
On my own time