Between Me, You, and Liberation

When I close my eyes to dream, I only have one visitor. She dwells in my slumber. She holds me there. I remember the very first time we met under these circumstances and I was gently but ungratefully awoken by the sun rays peering through my window one Sunday morning. It was a sweet dream. I would have rather slept for a lifetime just to be near her. If only you could see into me. We've embraced more than once, kissed more than once, and cried only once. I have realized that I'm bending the lines between slumber and wakefulness. I feel fully alive with or without my eyes open. The silent movies in my head become animated when the ink from my pen reaches the pages of my. . . The ink is the only lifeline for them. It's too surreal to deny its value. I feel the breezes and rays of sunshine. I feel everything that touches me. It's simple. It's only physics. . . Sadly enough, it's not all entirely fulfilling. Are we living in a dreamworld? Don't answer that rhetorical question. Living, breathing, reaching, nonetheless. I may not fall asleep to your voice in the night, or always wake up to your eyes, but we meet in the middle. The proximity between you and me is elongated in the day but the silver lining is reached in the black of the night. Interestingly enough, when the sun shines for me, the moon shines for you, so we're always near. . . Just not quite close enough. And even when I'm afraid, I squeeze my eyes shut and somehow my fear is released. Even if it's just for a moment, I'm safe in your arms. When darkness falls it's exhilarating. I'm not afraid of the dark. 

My dreams are like streams of consciousness: raw and passionate in its nature, climactic and satisfying. My dreams are timeless. Can't you see? 

Time. 

The essence of it. 

How easy it is to waste it. 

How we yearn for more. . & ask about where it went. 

It passes our shadows ands shows up on our faces. 

Time. 

Never works for us, and always seems against us. . .

Count 

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, years

Time.

Live while you still have it

Breathe while you still own it

Your smiles are timeless

The only evidence shown that time has passed are the rising and falling of the moon. It's dragging its feet but it's bringing me closer to you. I can be patient. I'll think I'll see you tonight, maybe. Bonne Nuit.

Now I lay me down to sleep. . . She rested her head upon my chest. Sensed liberation in between breaths. . .