Sapphire-onyx-mother of pearl

It's all an illusion—
anyway
the sky is not the sky
but an ever changing canopy
of sapphire-onyx-mother of pearl
and so it goes
the trees not trees
but mannequins that sometimes sway
sometimes don't
wear gloves of emerald
sometimes
ruby
citrine
and sometimes none at all
the seas are not seas
but aquamarine silk sheets
smooth and soft
sometimes rumpled—
when two lovers sleep
the grass not grass
but fingers of turquoise ribbon
cut methodically
though—
sometimes long and wild
swaying in the breeze
your eyes are not like eyes
but cold black marble
vacant stare
through which—
I don't want to see
chill my very core
garnet heart turns into marcasite
It's all just an illusion anyway
isn't that what you want us to believe