…such stuff as dreams are made on

Really?!  Seriously?!  I have another sweet, epic, amazing, sexy, erotic dream about him?!  Ugh–I wanna live there, please.  Ya know, one of those dreams in which you wanna live.  Where you can see, hear, taste, touch, smell EVERYTHING.  A dream that lingers with you.  A dream that has nearly EVERYONE you love in it.  A dream arousing all of your sensing and calling to your heart and your sense of humor and the core of your being.  A dream that will stay with you for awhile of so many levels.  A dream that had activities you enjoy and company you wish to always be keeping.  A dream where I felt his hands, his face, his legs, his lips–his caress!  Oh, to dream a dream…

He was so there…so real.  So mine.  And I his.  ONly in dream world I suppose.  Well, let me to dream again…and again…and again…

Can I feel is kiss once more?  How is it possible to feel the warmth of someone’s presence in a dream? (and it wasn’t warmth from wetting myself in my sleep, which can happen to some.  I was assured of that upon awaking…)

Oh, I suppose I’ll only be experiencing his love–or any such love–in my dreams for awhile.  C’est la vie…ou, c’est ma vie…


Oh, if only you could’ve been there in my dream last night.  It was fun…can we please make it no longer in dreams, though?  Can we PLEASE bring at least some of that into my awake life?  Perhaps my dream life is my “real life.”  Could be.  How romantic.  I like the sound of that.  But I spend more time awake.  And how much MORE romantic if I actually got to live my dreams–both waking and sleeping…!  (:

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unrespected;
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
How would thy shadow’s form form happy show
To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!
How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made
By looking on thee in the living day,
When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
All days are nights to see till I see thee,
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

-Sonnet 43 by William Shakespeare


About heathencomehome

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