Devilish dreams decide
where I will travel,
what I will accomplish there.

I knew the light was a lie
from the day I glimpsed
what there is behind it.

Everywhere is invaded by
some sickness of the eye
that makes the land and sky

seem separate. I do not lie
when I say there is no you
and there is no me;

there is only a meadow
of black grass and buried flowers
that stretches on forever.

Monica Beaujon is a twenty-year-old college student, majoring in English at the University of Wisconsin. In addition to writing, she loves hoop dancing and painting.  Her poetry has appeared, or is forthcoming, in the magazines Viewfinder and Lady.