Dreaming

Love, within dreams, its sensation or perceived sensation - the result of our most intimate secrets, secrets that lie within ourselves - overwhelms, transcending the physical. Each touch is magnified a thousandfold, and a gaze obliterates the passage of time. Eternity lies within the burst of REM, that tiny phase that makes up the smallest percentage of our waking day.
To awaken, after such a dream...
Difficult.

The security within the dream, as one hand envelope's the hand of the other, transcends everyday reality where security is dependent - whether consciously acknowledged or not - on an extrinsic set of factors: finance, appearance, occupation....'stuff'

It's within the dream that I feel snug, like nothing can tumble through to crack the surface, and my skin, warmed with the lightest touch, transforms into a true skin - not the type I wear on a daily basis, that's evaluated like I'm some sort of...product, with a use by date. Each caress leaves a silk trail that relaxes my pulse; each joint loosens and deep within, inside the bony cage I'd call my chest (in my waking day), I turn to mush...floating, as my thoughts lighten, and doubt ceases to exist. He is identical to me, and so, within the dream everything else (wars, news, egos, work) ceases to matter.