I love you most when I am dreaming. Rough edges fall away in fog of the eyes that take their leave from black reality and revert to caverns gleaming. How it glances off your face— that gem-light, stalagmites catching light— Oh how this is your favorite place. Where the purple plays across your nose, cold colors bathed in warm disguise,
You are a masterpiece to me when I close my eyes. But few souls can look without touching, awe without taking, love without breaking— Mineral dust on the soles of my shoes— It requires care to keep you without making the sheer walls tremble, the canaries die (reflections waver in water streaming). I cannot reclaim you from my dreams at night, for when I do
I wake up screaming.