Little sweat on my neck,
The warmth of your skin,
Rising like pressed steam,
Still, I keep you close.
Your little sleeping face,
Gentle as spring flowers blooming,
Carrying me,
To the golden Aegean Sea.
The wonders of the world,
placed right on my chest.
Soft body wiggles,
shifting to the side,
Your chocolate hair matted to your face,
from our body heat.
Its time for me to sleep,
In that fuzzy haze,
between the real and imagined,
My mind wanders to places,
Like an old videographer,
I see things slightly faded.
Snow peaked mountain tops,
rolling by,
As if I’m sitting in a train car,
moving forward.
The smell of crisp air
Wafting in from the top window,
Somehow perfectly ajar.
And like an old film,
The scene cuts to swirly hues of pink, blue and purple,
Folded in at the tips of my lashes.
It seems real,
Maybe it is,
In a different lifetime.
Like a telescope looking back,
But back to where?
I’ve never been there.
How delightful to experience dancing mysteries.
Right in the mind.
Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole 