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.
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