He inhales my essence
as I sleep,
as I dream,
through clouded mirages I wander,
through open loving scenes.
A pillowy path
weaves around
my dreamy garden,
poetic words dangle
from the bushes;
I greedily grab at them.
Unaware as he
breathes me in,
taking in my dreamscape,
certain fantasies,
poignant moments,
of a potential future
and moments of late
which we hold dear and near.
In a lane in which
I weave, stitch and rhyme,
picturesque scenes,
no need for disguise,
plain to see,
completely on show,
I’m not scared
but I am modest;
I care for his thoughts,
of mine he knows them well.
I am an open book
to him when I sleep,
no need to draw back
my subconscious drapery,
my scent reveals all,
beautiful imagery from me,
he doesn’t need to open
his eyes,
through me he can dream.
And as he
draws his face
closer to mine,
my gentle expression changes,
I can sense him,
I murmur as I lay and realise,
contented in each other,
we both inhale, exhale,
breathing in each other’s magic.
The stillness,
our shared air,
the quiet contemplation,
for these moments I do cherish,
I hold great care.
We are a pair built upon
soft contemplation,
a firm loving foundation,
entwined, are we,
our very own united nation.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Davids Kokainis on Unsplash
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