my dreams,
are your eyes;
cloudy and light brown,
like the first signs of autumn,
staring me down
and seeing through.

my dreams,
are every freckle of your skin;
numbered and scattered,
like deserted leaves of winter.
a sign both of the end,
and a new.

my dreams,
are your hands;
hopeful and wanting,
like the first day of spring,
reaching out with anticitpation
and construed

my dreams,
are every beating of your heart;
restless and anxious.
like the shortened days of summer,
apreciated, cherished,
and pursued

my dreams,
are every breath and every touch;
meaningful and alive,
like everyday of the year.
taken for granted,
and of you.