Dreamer: What am I to you?
Man: You are nothing.
Man: Yes. Nothing!
Dreamer: But last night …
Man: Last night was an illusion. A work of your imagination.
Dreamer: But you were there. All the time. You were there. How come … ?
Man: You were dreaming.
Dreamer: But I could touch you, kiss you and smell you. Here’s. Smell this. Your scent didn’t leave my skin. I can still taste your kiss.
Man: This is all in your mind. I am not real. I am an illusion. You were dreaming. Stop asking me questions.
Dreamer: I refuse to believe this. You are here now. What are you doing now?
Man: *smile* You are still dreaming… Your dreams never end. Your imagination never rests. That is all I am to you. Face it. I am your constructed reality. I am your means of escaping. I am in you. I am you.
Dreamer: Then I never want to wake up *sigh*
The Licentiam - Five poems about fiancée here at The Licentiam, an awesome zine for experimental erotic work.
6 days ago