there are spans i tremble to transit

And so I get colder in the area near the heart. My aura fades as I descend into something of vaporous shadow, something thin and translucent like dusk. Is this what waking from a dream is like? Is this the stark eye of reality, my feet like stones of ice from fear too heavy? I want again the dream where I thought her love into reality and myself into the dream I thought could never be real. Maybe dream and reality, here twisted like some knotted rope, are only states of mind and the physical presence is the only thing worth our certainty. Oh, love, if again you could possess me and make me dream you real again.

It has always been my regret that I gave you up because my grasp could not find a way to maintain you. Where are you now?

Love?

John.