imaginary

imaginary



I'm in love with your image

and you are certainly aware of this.

There's a voice in my heart that tells my mind it wants you…

everything about you.

My eyes can conjure up emotions that are not there, even when the darkness of the earth’s light is obsolete…completely obsolete, and alone like a fragile north wind wandering the night searching for solace.

It’s lovely in every way, even in those ways that are secretive and boxed-in…
those fearful memories we all hold deep within.

Your image puts my bodily movement in a daunting comatose that can rest silent for days on end. I’m telling you, it’s astonishing.



You exist, but only in certain ways. I can feel you, but your breath…it’s nowhere near my body and your touch…nowhere near my soul. I can imagine you deep inside, but you are nowhere within.



You, as I, are a figment of a sensual vision that invokes a profound dream-state of imaginary love behind closed doors

Where heartache soars

And the lonely, roars