Median

Median









She walks the median between two lanes in the back of my mind

and it is only when the sun begins to rise does she fade into the black

and let me be.



Be content with the dream.

The “seemed so real” dream

that we all have from time to time.



Her body, magnetic!

I want to orbit and taste of her atmosphere.

Her eyes calling, sometimes red, other times green.



I am like some out-dated machine trying to keep up

with the demands.

The demands of passion that all but cause me to crash anymore

in trying.

I go into another world, one of both love and lust.

Can one be without the other?



Dancing and swaying surrounded by pure energy

I only ask for one moment of perfection.

Living in dreams for dreams are all that matter anymore

and at least I have her in that realm.



Walk on the median.

Walk into the traffic going both ways.

Which is really right?

We only know “right” by our own set standards.

I do not wish to adhere so much to them anymore.



I walk the median as does she.

We occasionally pass each other in dreams.

Sometimes I want to step into that traffic on either side

but I cannot escape her orbit to do so.



The sun begins to rise.

The hold will not be as strong in the day.



Dream.

In dreams.

Where nothing really matters.

Where perhaps I can have the love of a woman for a change

and be accepted for myself with all my flaws.



I am in my world.

She is in my world

existing as a dream anyway.



Bring it home.

Bring it home and let me be.





--msl2023