wake me. are you really here?
a butterfly hunter
draped from the top of my neck
a conqueror of heart and soul
fastened at my fragile side
a sun, that casts out the winter
adorned with a perfect halo
a guide, brighter than a lighthouse
cherished by day and by night
a singer, serenading your love
welcomed by my chilled spine
a slow dancer, feeling each word
sculpted by our intertwined bodies
an inspiration, for every poem
adored by my ever so bold heart
a figment of my imagination
descended only from dreams
are you really here? wake me.