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Poem

I dream of simple things
Of simple, simple things
I dream of clothing myself
With skin of my very own
And the world will look me in the eye
And nod with a smile
As God would approve
I dream of sipping coffee
In the early, early morning
Right next to you
As I play with your messy hair,
You still half asleep, half naked…
What is there in this world—but love?
But to close our eyes
And dive backwards
And drown into the million craters of the moon
To tip-toe across the stars 
And weave our love into a constellation
Immortalized till the end of time
What is there in this world … but dreams?
Dreams are promises of bigger things
They're lights that shine when we're six feet under
When we're out of air
And out of hope
A need to indulge ourselves 
In a crystal sea of fantasies
And pretend,
For a second,
That they were real
It's the air I breathe
I dream of dancing the nights away
With you, and you, and only you
You'd hold me with your arms,
But carry me with your eyes
Like magic cradles
I dream of a lust that we can share
And desire, and passion, and love
And be proud as proud can be
Let the fires crackle and shine for the world to see
I dream… I dream… I dream
Like cyclones of stars in a fairytale sky
But in many ways
Fairytales are real
They're merely extensions of reality
But my reality's been given a stretch these days
And I remember that
Every time you breathe down my skin
Or I stare into your hazel eyes

I guess it's not so bad to dream

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