Across the pillows

I imagine how you talk across the pillows,
hand in hand we walk among the willows.
As dusk is taken by the moonlit night,
I live in this moment that my heart took flight.
Your eye's to me are dreams to remember,
and your kiss is Christmas in late December.
To be graced by your touch is the fourth of July.
and it's stealing my breath and lighting my sky.
So every whisper that parts your lips,
and sings across the pillow tips.
Are dreams to me so pure and true.
What we have is found by few.
Love is dust just whispers in time,
specks of rust amongst the grime.
Surviving won't do I want to live,
Loving you true I want to give.
I am not through I want to be,
lost in your love that would be free.

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This Poems Story

I wrote this poem shortly after waking up and enjoying some mindless banter with my love, my life.We faced each and talked about nothing and everything across the pillows.