I somehow wish
our dreams could entangle.
We could walk
through your fields,
beside bountiful trees.
Picking fresh fruits that dangle,
and like the roots of those trees
we could entwine,
then cascade like a waterfall,
into the oceans of mine.
We could swirl like the air above,
becoming vortex clouds.
Whirlwinds of love
which swoop down
and become whirlpools
to swallow us up.
We could become stones
in the shallow rockpools.
Cones on traffic islands.
Fools in a deck of kings.
Jokers in a hand of hearts.
We could be anything.
If you just listen
to that sing song voice within
that is whispering,
ready to raise her voice,
to blow away the whole opera,
and crash the walls into dust.
We could
become homes,
within homes,
within sandcastles
of home.
Becoming the seconds
that surge between
the minutes that urge us
to never give in.
We could become
the mountains,
and valleys
making love with the night.
The teasing caresses
of soft blown kisses
from our lungs
to the sky.
Thanks for reading
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