At present, reality is lacking from our visage.
Wish it were the moon, refracting light on the passenger’s window.
Streetlights tell adulterous lies, pretend moons on mirrored surfaces--
Headlights dance as stars in our recollection of sky.
Make a wish before eyes turn the image upside down,
But that is how we comprehend.
As we watch, the night cloaks our city in demure tones.
Orientation loses worth when the night falls--
Everything is sky.

Now, sheets don’t lie right and sleep never comes.
Night is buzzing with myriad new mornings.
A lack of light tunes down the world to black and white--
Indicates to cones and rods that eyes must close,
Mimics our slumbering state
But how can we sleep with such beauty in our eyes?

Tomorrow, we will awaken and morning will have come,
Sunlight bleaching our vision to blinding white.
There are no misunderstandings in the morning--
Flaws strung on clotheslines to air out dank indecency.
Immediately, I regret the littlest of my lies--
I knew there was no moon in your window.
Youth did not exempt me, clouds crowded even my eyes.
But the moon beams mercy, tonight brings another prospect
We will try again.

Make"-be*lieve` (?), n.

A feigning to believe, as in the play of children; a mere pretense; a fiction; an invention.

"Childlike make-believe."

Tylor.

To forswear self-delusion and make-believe. M. Arnold.

 

© Webster 1913.


Make"-be*lieve`, a.

Feigned; insincere.

"Make-believe reverence."<-- imaginary -->

G. Eliot.

 

© Webster 1913.

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