I dream of you, the loss of reality.
To late for me to hold dear,
and to kiss the mouth which is the birthplace of your soul.
I dreamed of you, my arms, ache in a attempt to circle your shadow.
To embrace the contours of your body. Coming face-to-face with the reality of what haunt's me and rule's me for days....
Off center of the emotional scale....
I dreamed of you, it may be too late to wake again. And yet when it comes to you,
the only person who matters to me now,
I can no more touch your face and lips than I can those of the next strange person.
To trace you, to draw the beauty of your soul, and hold dear on paper....
I've dreamed of you so often, slept so much with your presence that perhaps the only thing left for me to do now
is to become a shadow that moves silently through your life.
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