The Gates of Dreamland

I woke

upon descent

the graze of my hand

against the cold parts of your skin

the return of heat to sleepy surfaces

surrendered in slumber

the arrival of one

(amongst many that fall like dust)

the sort of safety that holds me in grace and rapture

I wandered to now, as my heart calls to then

a place that lies in waiting

rinsing blood that reminds me to be tender

to feel gently into what calls

to take care and nonetheless take heed


Come curl against the cold parts of my skin

the surfaces that promise warmth upon your touch


Blowing wind into fire

fueling rapid rage

turning wishes

into whirlwinds

transferring ferocious heat

into hypnotic harmony


As your lips and tongue graze curiously

upon my neckline

tasting what sheds

a removal of layers that lie buried

upon the surface of cold skin

from the tips of my toes to the tantalizing

pulse down my spine

from root to crown

a call to align


I tasted myself

mixed upon the pores of your flesh

and found your beating heart

buried as deep as my own

somehow pulsing in patterns

that play

in the form of flashing eyes

like the gates of dreamland

opening with every gust of wind

blowing strong enough to move iron


I whispered into portals

swearing to swallow you whole

promising no return as before

in worshiping wonder

a wager that seeks itself in expansion

passing from pain to pleasure…

to surrender…


I was told to exhale

through the parts that hold tight

to breath through the gates that hold heavy

and I woke

upon descent

the graze of your hand

against the cold parts of my skin

the return of heat to sleepy surfaces

surrendered in slumber

to the arrival of one














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