The voices beg me to go deeper, reach cleaner, yearn closer
I dream of a spectacular love, I dream of another life, I dream of transformations and hugging, sensual bliss and being at peace. Searching the forest floor for mushrooms and fiddleheads, wild garlic and fantom fairies, I begin to repeat myself, leaving echos, leaving footprints, leaving words, dropping stitches. So I wake up, this dream inside the dream. This river inside this spiral arm of the cosmic wind, gently pushes each galaxy to collide, to slide, to beckon, to borrow. The spotty night sky, inside the looming spiders in the corner sway to the saved messages on your answering machine. Spring brings rainbows to bless the union and quench the thirst of the rich soil, spring celebrates with Daffodils and lilies and young nettle to feast and sting. Spring also invites fiddleheads and dandelions, coaxing their transformation, encouraging the energy to Blossom, Bloom, Banter. I did not hold your hand, but you did hold out yours to me in the most chaste and gentlemanly fashion, endearing myself, imprinting the impression of warmer weather and summers approach. I beckon my open heart, but I'm careful with my Body language. I nestle into the corner of your heart, but I am only visiting, the cold earth has yet to be planted. It's too much, to young, too far, too complicated, to be real.
All I wish for is the life of living real love.
All I love is real while wishing for a life well lived.
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