(The Kiss, Edvard Munich, 1897)

Dreamweaver 

Do you not see that we are tied by one string?

Our love shrouded

Woven in the fibers of the heavens

Lost at first breath

Shades of grey, but not forgotten

You see in your mind’s eye

I am as real as you

Flesh within your grasp

Our breath as one

Lips upon lips, hand into hand

Your body enraptures me

I fold into you; sanctum

You embrace with all that you are–all that I need

All that I am returned unto you

I want to scream, “Wake up!”

But it is I who dreams

My tears wet upon my cheeks reminding me

There is no one there

Just darkness