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to die, perchance to dream

																																																	

Look at me.  Do you see me?  Or are you too, just seeing what you want.  

I want to believe but I've been taught believing is being ignorant, 
stupid and gullable.  I am none of these things.  I am a unicorn.  I am 
a fairy princess.  I am a dragon, protecting her clutch.  I am a daring
knight, fighting for the love of my lady.  I am a muse with a tongue of 
honey.  

What do you see when you look at me?  When you look into my deep, deep 
blue eyes?  Do you see yourself reflected in their depths, or do you 
see something great?  Do you see me?  

I am a child, afraid yet fearless.  I jump into a crystal stream, and 
cut my feet on the glass shards.  Glass shards of those who faught 
before me.  Glass shards of those who faught for me.  

I am an old woman.  Wise, yet innocent.  I timidly step forward, then 
retreat, remembering the bottles that I had broken there.  Bottles 
broken and tossed aside.  Do you know me?  

I want to reach out, but I hold back.  I am pure.  

Childish thoughts, stained, mared, with the knowledge I possess.  

I am the last small flickering flame living atop a dieing candle.  My 
time, I know, is almost finished, yet I've just been lit.  I want to 
run, yet I am bound to this place.  I long to be part of a roaring forest 
fire, out of control, careless, without mercy or regret.  

Chapped lips pull towards me, I back away.  We dance, a sensual and 
forbidden lust stiring within.  I sway to the rythme of his breath, his 
every move complementing mine.  He loves me in a wordless silence.  Hope 
stirs within me and I smile.  I dare to smile, in a world as dark and 
hopeless as this, I smile.  

I wonder what our children would look like.  We share the same dark eyes 
and pale skin, his brown, mine blue.  He is tall, while I am pocket size.  
His dark curly locks catch and hold the light reflected off my blonde 
head.  His first child would share his name.  

He is strong, and patient, with my pain.  I long to hold him tightly to 
my breast and never to let go.  I long towards the day that I might give 
myself totally over to him, to surrender my fears and no longer to be 
afraid.  To live in love.  He is all things good in man, all things I 
thought I would never find.  

I lie back onto my pillow, eager to dream.  For perhaps now, I do not 
dream alone.   Perhaps. . .
					The little flame flickers and goes out.


"to die, perchance to dream"

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Poetry

A Flower in Winter
A poem about love and loss.
I saw it...
A poem with a twist, not soon forgotten.