A Breathing Fantasy

i create a quiet midnight hour around me all the time and migrate myself into a world of solitude... where i feel your breath down my neck tickling myriad memories of your touch sometimes in the real wee hours i'm left all by myself contemplating this notion of love whether it's a fantasy i created to survive myself in a barren piece cut off from imagination and the ability to dream no, no, no... screams my voice for the oft repeated voice alone knows the messages of love it carried to you across the cruel geographical spaces... 31dec2009 15.54hrs