I’m caught in-between

fantasy and reality;

walking a tightrope of hope,

and make believe.

Because I trust in the galaxies—

In an ancient love

that extends far beyond

this physical realm.

Encountering a body and face,

another vessel

in which to place

my desire, dreams,

and faith.

A connection of music:

Poetry and vibration.

Hearing lyrics he must be hearing

(if I already know the song),

but that—

That can’t be real…

What’s real?

My presence often

makes him turn away.

Grab his neck,

his head, his face.

Most of the time,

he won’t even look at me.

Or he looks at me in awe,

eyebrows raised,

sometimes I sense frustration,

pain,

but I cannot caress his hurt away

because his body’s not mine

to hold and embrace.

It’s not possible anyway.

He must help himself.

Every now and then

our eyes lock

and time stops

but I must pull away my gaze

as I know the thoughts inside my head

and I think,

I think I must be insane.

What’s real?

I’m satisfied in life.

I love being with me.

I love being single.

I don’t want to repeat

any romance from my past.

I’m breaking the cycle.

It’s better to be alone

than with the wrong man.

Torn between reality and fantasy

because he caught my attention

when I wasn’t looking.

I was getting involved

with someone else again,

now an ex-friend,

and he,

he didn’t quite look my type,

but I still noticed him.

He still stood out.

I feel alive when I think of him now

and I have for a while:

A strong, intense,

sexual desire.

An awakening of both an inner calm

and a passionate fire.

There is a burning inside of me to taste him—

A longing,

as if his eyes contain

the secret of the stars.

As if when it becomes safe

for my body to obey

and for his, to obtain,

then it will unlock

the Milky Way,

leading to the path

we’re meant to take—

But it’s all just make believe.

That kind of love isn’t real.

Is it?

There’s no past lives,

no telepathy.

There’s no such thing as souls

whom meet

and can feel each other

someplace deep

with each and every heart beat,

just by looking in each others eyes

from across the room.

By stealing glances,

and by the gifts

that the 21st century technology

have bestowed upon our

human curiosity.

“I’m crazy.”

I repeat it like a mantra in my head.

But at least I know it

and he can’t see this.

At least as I lose my mind,

I can salvage some of my dignity.

I can pour out my heart’s hope, pain, and vulnerability

freely

into poetry.

I have choices.

I may walk the tightrope,

but I have firm footing.

I’m not afraid.

I’m not going to fall either way,

especially not back into

delusional ways,

although I do enjoy

allowing my mind

to wade deep

out into the warm waters

where I find him and I—

lost in the sheets, in his car,

in the music, in the stars;

Finding ourselves

as our sweat and lips

interlock.

I must breathe him in

and out.

Another dead end,

and I know it must be,

for if he felt the same,

he wouldn’t let me

slip from his grasp.

He would travel through hell and fire,

through ice and pain,

as once he and I meet,

nothing will be the same.

We can’t unsee.

We can’t unfeel.

We can only grow.

We’re here to evolve.

And it’s time now,

it’s time to awake.

There is a purposeful path

he and I must take,

things we can only achieve

together.

This man—he may not be the one.

He may not be the one.

“I’m crazy”, I repeat to myself.

And that’s okay,

as there are worse things to be.

I’m not cruel, manipulative—

Filled with deceit.

I simply see

what others can’t see;

I feel the vibrations of plants and trees.

I’m compassionate and kind—

Honest, loyal, loving.

And yes, I’m a little out of my mind

because I believe in forces

that transcend space and time.

I’m happy when I’m with me.

I know that I am loved

by myself,

by my friends, and family.

By my little bird

whose melodies

light my soul ablaze.

She is kindling—

my soul mate,

but, I,

I also seek

my flame.

It’s nice to know,

at the very least,

that I truly believe

someone else can love me

as much as I do.

That this man I seek

will see in me

what I see in me

and I, in turn, will truly see him

for he is me: My reflection—

The good and the bad,

beautifully wrapped

into a human form.

There’s no perfection here,

he will bring pain, joy, tears

and lessons

from his own life and past

that I cannot yet

fathom.

But gosh, our scars

and broken bits—

The parts of ourselves

we hate so much,

make us beautiful

because we’ve filled our cracks

with liquid gold—

with compassion, kindness,

generosity, and love.

Two souls divided,

whom came from one.

The yin and the yang.

The soft and the rough.

The divine feminine and sacred masculine—

Complimenting each other.

United through the healing power

of our sexual touch.

We each hold the key

the other needs to unlock

this trust.

Breathe baby girl,

the Universe has

its own timing

and clock.

In the meanwhile,

keep loving yourself.