Emails from airlines tease me, then torture me.
"Make your daydreams a reality"
"Flights on sale!"
Don't taunt me.
I look away from email to the wall;
Smiles greet me. Memories follow.
I remember that smile. It was a smile from when I was with you.
My smiles don't look like that now.
I pull out your shirt - it doesn't smell like you anymore.
I hold it close for a moment anyway.
I curl up sitting on the floor, incapacitated, halted.
Pulled beneath the waves.
It passes. It always does. It has to.
Here I have a life that I have built that you have never been able to touch,
It goes on without you here.
And there's nothing I can do about that.
So I'll continue on, living off dreams and memories.
And the emails will still come.

I'll weave into your sleeping form and lace into your dreams; when you wake I'll be the light behind your eyes and the softness in your smile.
With sharp words and gentle intentions I will shape and guide this story. I am cunning and honest.
I'll get inside your head, but more importantly, your heart. There I will spin my tale and make you begin to wonder and learn.
I design and I scheme, I am crafty and clever. I create and I intertwine, I am fabricated and beguiling.
I am the sin and savior of imagination, I am the inspiration and the hollow ring. I am the advocator of make-believe and visions of passion.
I am the lessons of joy and strife, I am the morals, I am the parable of simplicity, I am the myths and legends that have withstood time.
I am the fallacies and disappointments, the misconceptions and outdated lore.
I am; I create. I entwine, knit, construct, contrive. I invent these allegories, bringing things into being.
(So who am I?
...I am love, for "love is a cunning weaver of fantasy and fables.")