midnight dark
is my true love’s kiss
of clove and citrus scented

cradled in the subtle
woven voices
of the conspiratorial night wind

soft as the silver-blue
edges of light
cast from nocturnal lanterns

sharing in silent thunder
secrets held in coffers
of crimson jade

blazing with the vibrance
of constellations
blown before celestial storms

full as skyward Luna
rounded and buxom
heavy with desire

veiling my worldly sight
so her truth can pierce me

blinding me
that I may see

"I dreamt that the river was burning"
"I dreamt that the snow was on fire"
"And"
"In dreaming impossible dreams"
"I dreamt that you were my lover"

but...
the river dried up,
the snow had melted,
my eyes opened,
and...

I can't remember