to you br

what a wet thursday afternoon it was. little puddles of flesh by the sidewalks. people chuckling. and muttering. and lifting their arms through the water drops. to hail a wheel. to go home. and cry. or heave. or eat. a dream, from across the seas.

it was the time when you and i walked on pebbles and the charcoal of a gravel. by the marble of temples and science. and the dome of grey where knowledge cured man. and on the bridge. and the illuminated wine. how smooth. how frail. like beating skin and flawless silk. that jar of red. the pink rosé. and amber smiles. the green and purple by the pond. ablaze in the night sky. through clouds of haze. and whirring mist of phantom minds. what a beautiful void. what a riveting tunnel. of gentle rhymes and quizzical minds. smiling and joking. like we were born in the womb of sand. a million years ago. holding fists and bleeding sweat. like feeble brows clasping fortune. whether you wrote novellas. or the catechism of breasts. by the sparkling charles or the smiling seine. you will leave the doors. of a greener castle. peeping and peeking through a veil of fear. i have your back. for if you fall, i will lift. as much as i can. with shattering veins and bleeding wrists, i will lift your soul.

for you can smile. when you are married and mother of three. and your ringed mate, your oath-taker, will flee the floods to hear your lyrics. of science and man. and the trickle of raphael. as painted on the tapestry of love.

welcome to the pedestal of dreams.