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A Love Letter to an Illusion

Posted by Dr. D , 11 September 2012 · 363 views

By what madness are these words inscribed?  The thoughtless ramblings wrenched from the heart to pay honor to a stubborn illusion.  The face embedded upon my dreams, never changing, never yielding, always haunting; shot into my veins like vaccines or vitamins.  It is but a vision rendered in my youth as the measure by which each woman would be compared, and all would be found wanting.  Born of my imagination, she became the standard never met and still she persists, never worn by time or experience.  She has driven me to this; this act of madness.  Her persona lingers and I am drawn to address this to her as if she were next door.

I have thought of you and became lost in metaphors.  Your hair is not dark as a raven’s wing, rather the wing is as dark as your hair.  Your eyes are not the tint of emerald, rather emeralds imitate the color of your eyes.  Everything must be compared to you lest they have no definition at all.

In that universe of my mind, we have touched and danced and laughed.  We have walked the hushed beaches of places yet undiscovered and sat on hillsides yet uncharted.  We have loved beneath the moon and over dark oceans.  You have looped your arm in mine and gazed at me with lips slightly parted, as if all words had forsaken you.  We have been together while others ravaged my heart and looted my senses.  Still you were there as you are now, subjected to this discourse of lunacy.

But somewhere within the caverns of my soul rises the smoke of a single hope.  What if? It asks.  What if this creature born of fantasy and foolishness, exists and senses her presence in the whisps of my dreams?  What if she is obedient to the feeling that she belongs somewhere but not knowing where?  What if she is real and cannot find her way into my madness?  What if?

I will press a button and advertise my weakness, impetuously imagining once again that my words will fall before your eyes and prompt you to acknowledge.  I abandon my pride, forsake my dignity for the faint chance that you are there, aware of living in my delusion.

So many hearts know the anemia of affection.  So many lips are poised for the taking.  So many dreams are seeking a head as beautiful as yours to happen in.  Would reality, in all its cruelty, deny that you should breathe and long and wait?  Is not my heart at home?  When will the persistent image take form and suddenly appear without fear or warning?

If it is you, then hold these words near to your breast and feel the message hidden there.  Reach out and brush away the dream and take my hand.  Smile as I have seen countless times and whisper only, “Is it you?”

A fine mind and the soul of a poet...a woman's dream. She is out there, my dear, searching for you.
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Sep 11 2012 05:44 PM
I love your blog...
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