I once had a dream about a boy who dreamed about a girl who was dreaming about a boy who dreamed about a girl.
In my dream the boy found green where red was yellow, the color of roses bled nights passing and the scent where taste becomes a whisper held his eyes to the sound of her face.
His view of her now shifted as her sense of him intuned, as hers the prior lifted when him searching takes a tomb.
In her dream the girl knew only that what was was not what isn’t, she focused on the fault but found instead the hurt was distant.
Her view of him now shifted as her sense of him resumed, as his the primer gifted to uncover what was tombed.
In his dream the boy sought endlessly for the mist that seemed to scorn, this vision of a lost and frameless figure much deformed, he knew of hope yet lost his touch and sound became a ghost,
“If you the wind my enemy,” he screamed,
“then you I fear the most!”
The boy who dreamed this girl who’s dreaming led her to a boy, he knew she’d one day find the truth and search for the what once more.
The girl herself had held out hope that one day much would change, her will to give up never and the faith that lives a stage.
The boy she dreamed of who dreamed of her, that Dearest Sweet, was me. I found you out there in the dark, and knew one day we’d meet.
I love you.