My dreams of you are great fantasies
Epic operas washed in golden lights
Marble steps, elaborate chandeliers
and dainty feet on shiny granites
Mysterious evenings that fade
into rich promising nights
Anticipation, ardour and excitement.
The air of my dreams of you is perpetually
thick with passion and emotion.
A grand promise of some great
divinity occurring in the undercurrents.
And when you come into sight, the air, it crackles.
And I rush down those steps and rush into you.
Your arms poised to receive as you lift me up.
And passionate kisses follow
oblivious to the eyes around.
I look into your eyes and ask, "Why love me so?"
And your eyes seem to answer simply,
"Because that is what I do."
I rub into your stubble because I like to
And it dawns on me again, that all these years along
You have wordlessly, unconditionally, continually
showered me with your gestures of love
when I had been seeking mere words.
And yet you never stopped,
acts of affection coming forth.
Corazon. You honour me. I love you.