Desire injects dreams' aromas
with startups and see-throughs,
with innuendos beyond basic common sense pleas.
But desire seems venerable and cherished
when daytime dreams are easily seeded
overshadowing reality’s flats and daytime fades.
Dreams, when drawn-to-light,
produce hard to source invigorations,
wellsprings of sky bound curiosities,
soon to shed the ways of faint participation.
Desires may prompt release
from the postures of restraint,
promote a new religion of self-intimacy,
catching memories' mighty nostalgic status
at a loss to refute what wonders never cease
that come to mind.
For within the conviction towards yearning,
sacred are the practices of conscious desire
sent sprawling into holograms and language,
spoken overtly yet inside,
and heard above all else
as spun-of-the-heart, desire.