The man of my dreams,

can only be seen through closed eyes.

The love of my life,
is physically unaware.

Romance pulses through my veins,
so I write away...

In another lifetime.
some other way.
in-between seasons.
as a canvas serves purpose to half-empty bottles of paint..

that's when I'll feel,
that's when he'll touch,
that's when we'll seat,
that's when we'll brunch,
that's when I'll hold him,
as he sings me sweet songs..

that's when the dream,
will tear me apart.