in my dreams
let's drink a coffee, a tea, let's talk about us, or just let's watch ourselves at each other to feel together how often love kissed us... [it whispered at my soul's roots, the spring]; let your mind's steps tread on the doorstep of my blues using a poem without uttering love's words, lusts, and longings but only be felt in the emotional charging of your cells; let your chromosomes' scent get spread up... tenderly to touch my meadow of buttercups placed in my dreams among time and space with the noise of verses moaning your name … whispered again at my soul's roots, – spring;