We laid on **** rugs,
And creativity flowed out.
Finger tips to minds,
Like making love,
We made music.
I slept with you,
And turned into a spider
A vine,
And rooted myself
Into your dreams

The kind of dreams,
You try and fall back into
After the daylight has woken you.
Squeezing eyes shut,
The window growing smaller,
Darker.

But oh! The reality.
My dreams, in all their dimensional glory
Living beauty, right beside me
Privileges,
An art gallery without a Do Not Touch sign
Fluid art, I caress until I’m reaching through it
Until in envelopes me,
Until it is inside me,
Watering the vines
You already planted.

-Taylor