I lay down at the Pantheon
My head on cold concrete, bowed steps
I lay down at the Pantheon
My body lying in state next to Hugo, Dumas
I lay down at the Pantheon
Slipping into it's architecture, a poet on its Greek facade
I lay down at the Pantheon
The rhythm of my blood timed on Foucalt's Pendulum

I see the breeze blow through Corinthian leaves
I feel the weight of the bell, its shuddered silence
I am a child spinning under its domed cathedral

I weave in and out of its history
I lay
I alight
I loom

Until, like a beggar, I am asked to leave.