The dreams, they come and they go

Realized and not.


Fantasy and fulfillment,

Mine and his.


Which are which?

Mine overlap each other.


The night time not their only province.

They wake me and hold me


Sometimes up, sometimes down.

His hands can hold both ways.


Too much importance in

Misdirected feelings.


The sounds replete with endings,

The beginnings done in silence.


Masks of unreality, his and mine but

No one knows but me.


All the tales have been told,

The smashing is all done.


Vibrations are all that are left

But like a tuning fork


Will they cause the other to answer?