Truth Was   She didn’t want to talk about Dreams, she said.  She didn’t want To cradle nonsense in her arms                         Like somebody’s shrill child.  Some things she said made Me think otherwise, but her                         Contradictory ways I told her Were endearing and oh so Human.  She said she didn’t             Want to hear it; that for ahuman, Being human was no triumph— She wanted to be the stone that bled.   She said listen, she wanted to play In the dirt and get her hands Dirty, to eat dirt and in that way                         Remove the taste of old lovers And other enemies.  Said truth was, She really did want to talk dreams.     - Jon Ballard