What are dreams made of?

Chest deep into the wish wash of

steaming water,

silky spume stranded

across every fields of my skin.

Sober thoughts

swathed by

a fairy-tale haze.

I look up and

there

you

are.

We spent hours

staring into our souls, and

nights inviting our

bodies closer to each other.

Sleep is lacking, my energy fading.

I wonder how much longer I can take this…

but one thing is for sure,

insomnia

has never been so

enticing.

Hips reaching higher,

away from ruffled covers,

closer to heated lips.

Fine fingers grasping

locks and limbs.

Restless tongue stroking,

tasting your delectable nectar

–my ambrosia.

I wake up to

an empty pillow,

the sweetness of your scent just a

distant memory.

Fantasies, that's all we'll ever be.