Lavender

I daze wishful sleep, the interval of a digital beep; dreaming the house of horror, house of wishes, house of lies, house of discovery, house of uncovering truths, house of annoyance, house of aggravation, the trap, the deaf, the dumb, the blind, the written, the read, the repetitive haunting, far worse than expected and everyone remains silent.

Lavender, the dreary aesthetic of memory; how much can a woman miss her man? His buttons space apart, suit coat falls gently from firm shoulders, mismatching shoes.

Promising our return, we witness symbioses multiplication; I recall she never kept one. I am allergic to roses yet aware of the fragrance; thus a person whom I trusted.

"Will you fix it for me?"

Divine intervention is the man of my chosen dreams. Unbuttoning his oxford my fingers feel faint, all the way down wishes underneath the sweetness of his bare chest.

The beep is a call sound.

Our kiss is the rebirth of dreams; somehow I am here and somehow I am there.

Navigators map me through circuits; I am closer than expectation. Somebody is watching but they cannot help; I never knew myself to be helpless. Often I rescue a person searching for death; I wonder if I am that person lost inside myself.

I am quite positive she is crazy for him as I am crazy about him. She must wait for him every moment; she must dream of him always. Such a beautiful man is adored forever as I adore him infinitely.

Lost is the destination; I am quick to run away.