Dreams and Desire

Thoughts of spiraling flashes of light adorn the misty bluegreen veil of moonlight bathing the grand hall of mirrors. I hear the whisper of the softly played violin, hushing the keys of the piano, like the waves crashing onto the sky above me. I listen to their lullaby and feel the musical notes from the flute carress the corners of my mind. I sway to their sweet romanticism, their delicate murmurs of sensual desire and fulfilment. As I carelessly wander around the fields of smoky silver polished glass, I hear the distant drumming of a lover's heart. It skips a beat and I smirk almost too knowingly. It's a beautiful thing, I remark to the one hovering beside me. It's a beautiful thing. There's nothing with more beauty than the sigh of the gladiolus as the grass breezes by, gently nipping it amorously on the long green neck of its stem. The burgundy isn't just the blush of the lovely lady, it's the blood rushing from her heart throughout her slim form, bathing her in that pinkish glow that drives her forest green lover mad. He takes my hand, tugs me away from the peaceful nature we contemplated in silence. He places his hand almost ghostly on my waist and we dance across the rivers of fire and ice. I twirl and spin and spiral down into his arms, confused, disoriented, out of balance in mind and soul and body.  My muscles are tense and some even ache, others burn. I shake my head to clear the haze, my hair sticking to the back of my neck and my temples, my eyes foggy. I blink and part my lips, gasping for breath, and turn around, crashing into a surface of unkown warmth. It surrounds me, pulls me into an overpowering embrance. I look up. The eyes of my beloved insence, the pupils grand and dark as ever. I know now that I am awake. But a small part of me insists that I'm still dreaming.