Lighthearted, as you like it

O this time tis but a dream that prompted this

no lost lover or crumbled apotheosis

of my soul truncated into decrepit trinkets

just a dream, lovely, so laden with symbols

it would tempt us to laugh but still - it happened,

and in the fatal flaw of the feisty subconscious

there still is a lingering of the feast it offered :

your hair had grown again, presented to me as a gift

and you had been pregnant with a strange pear which

the symbolic homophonous mother who once died questionned

if you had been taking care of it - good woman

flappy as she may be, in all her neurosis.

And then we drank, perhaps this was in the homeland

and ran through streets deserted by the dawning day -

and past what it all may mean I just recall your face

as it accompanied me through this most laborious of days

dear you looked so happy and swell, I recall it so well

so what is it that makes us if we only live in this land

of dreams of certainty and the romantic recollections

we resent the past for all the doom it contains

so how may it breed something so magnificent

it remains a companion - the image of you as entirely splendid.

and I know I exist in your mind as such,

for you have narrated vividly the torment it may cause-

but in these distinct territories we never meet

we just watch each other be how we want to be seen

interchangeable in dreams, reckless in reality

with these two personas we possess within you and me