Dream

Sleep, Think, and Dream myself to you, is what I do out of devotion. Long lingers of school buses and library books that took us and taught us "home". A word which became more for meeting you, and harder to remember for knowing you so well. Yet I often slip from reality and indulge this false definition, derived from the optimism of a hopeful heartbeat. Then I wander through the wonder years, and cherished moments of selfless smiles and obvious affection, poorly cloaked by friendship and often revealed in a series of glances, that taught me the reason behind a prayer. Abating the sting of every melancholy thought, and transforming the diffident words of a silly boy, into beautiful phrases of endearment, offered to a woman from a man. Thus, I dream of you as the virus and the remedy, dark and bright that keeps my mind balanced. Pondering a poison by daylight, and recalling the cure by nightfall. Drowning in your absence and breathing by the sight of closed eyes, that grant me a reason to inhale deeply and exhale slowly, during a held moment of pure elation. Running from reality until rest arrives, allowing me another chance to sleepwalk my way back, into the only dream I know.