Dreams. Sweet elusive dreams are a tease.

Playing on the tip of your tongue long enough...

for a slippery, fatigued moment,

you believe it true.

Then, quicker than a nerve impulse,

quicker than a tongue registers the flavor,

it wickedly slips into thin air,

its sweetness never tasted again.

Leaving the lingering aftertaste, the shadowed memories,

of a beautiful, fleeting love.

...a consciously forgotten love...

more intense than legends preceding us

and, surely, than those that will follow.

Filled with sorrow and bitterness

that would cripple the weak,

still torture the strong

And happiness that, in its pure saccharinity,

would uplift one past the realm of reality

to a place only again reached

by an opaque fog of melancholic nostalgia.

Wake me... promise to wake me fast.

No matter the pleading, promising, and persuasion

Despite the earnest tears

In spite of the fact I will beg on my knees, hands desperately clasped

Heart breaking

To remain in this ignorant euphoria.

Wake me quickly to lessen my hopeless desperation to return

To dodge the darkening glimmer in my eyes

And worst, to avoid the permeating echoes of my wounded cries

After the sweet slumber slips so suddenly away.