in my dreams

let's drink a coffee, a tea, let's talk about us,
or just let's watch ourselves at each other
to feel together how often love kissed us...
[it whispered at my soul's roots, the spring];

let your mind's steps tread on the doorstep
of my blues using a poem without uttering 
love's words, lusts, and longings but only be
felt in the emotional charging of your cells;

let your chromosomes' scent get spread up...
tenderly to touch my meadow of buttercups
placed in my dreams among time and space
with the noise of verses moaning your name
whispered again at my soul's roots, – spring;


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