Sometimes I wished my fantasy was a reality
because my fantasy brought me reality

You are a crystalline castle filled with an oceanic virtue that rises and falls as I breathe in deep. The sight of you still stuns me into a silence that rings in marble halls hemmed with ornate stained glass. I will never be wise enough to know the great chasms you have fallen into in your grief, but I promise to be there to lift you up. The silhouette of your body cradles me as I sleep, a comfort so fully realized that I've known it only in my deepest dreams. I love you completely, knowing your heavy and seeing your dark. None other ignites a spirit inside me that soars above the highest sight. You are a masterpiece among what some may call wreckage, I know is the most precious gold.

down by the river, we see through the shore,
and bear witness as human proclivities roar.

Diving into the water, we hold its wet hand
for the rivers enlivenment, so few understand:

so down by the river, we will lay in its bed
while lullabies sung by the lapping waves tread;
as the river explains, in liquid morals unsaid-
its teachings, in riptides ,flowing into our head.
  
as the sun on the water, scintillating, does glow
it calls to us now as we're destined,

we go.

I.
Sensuality orbits inside her irises
like a rising river of lightning;
I long for her flickering hands
to carve shadows into my skin.

As our bodies drift closer,
the tremendous crackle of our electric love potential
streaks past our assembling thought bridges
like a flock of neon swans.

She intently studies my face,
unleashing a tsunami of desire.

Visions of a dress-less,
breathless her leap like a pack of dolphins
from my ravenous eyes:
repeatedly breaching
the thin boundary that
separates sea and sky.

As the thunderous wave of yearning
pulses steadily through me,
the blackened stone of my crumbling heart-fortress
dreamily dissolves like sandcastle walls.

I am left exposed,
a pebble in its cavernous wake.

II.
As the mesmerizing swans of desire regroup and return
I am brought to my knees like a worshiping peasant.

My heart helplessly trails the trajectory
of the encircling birds as they rain down
flurry after flurry of silk from their knitting wingtips,
transforming my crouching form into a statuesque cocoon
of quicksilver anticipation.

I slip from gravity's grip
like a thousand separate strands
of her strawberry hair,
blowing in the wind.

I am carried upon the dawn's horizon
like a giant caterpillar,
hurled too soon into the sapphire sky.

I melt into the pillowy clouds
like a tired child cradled in the arms of mother:
straining to remain aware
yet content to float idly by,
one finger slicing a trail of ripples
into the deepening river of imagination,
two ears gently catching the intensifying rush of water
as it escapes skyward from the vast ocean trenches of dreams.

III.
Before my freshly unbound eyes
can adjust to the crisp mountain air
my heart cascades like a barrel
over the scintillating waterfall
of her receptive smile.

As I splash down
the tumultuous bats of excitement
scatter like light through a prism,
coating her beguiling eyes
with the water-born hues
of passionate escape.

With a playful wink of her eye
the cocoon's unwinding accelerates.

At first the strands simply snake
into the ground and disappear,
but soon enormous caterpillars of shimmering silk
emerge to form an enduring tree of joy.

Here underneath its expansive boughs
our fluctuating heart-leaps synchronize.

As we bathe in the universe's greatest bounty,
our eyelashes collide like gilded butterflies.

IV.
Without these hungry fingertips
how could I sketch the capricious curves
of her blossoming body-language?

Without this dexterous tongue
how could I taste the kaleidoscopic streaks
that so sweetly stain the emotional foothills of our love?

Maybe it’s just me
Who had all these fantasies
Is this even real?