Did I dream you dreamed about me?

She was soft to the touch as I held her close. There was no when or where as time and space held still as most dreams usually do. It's perhaps why we are haunted by them as we crawl towards those waking moments feeling nothing but confusion or a sense of what was. This dream was no different except I long have learned how to hold those whispers of thought together before they fade.

She was perfection to touch. Something which I've always sought for in my lackluster life. Perfection is an ideal that I could never reach in any way as I understand how time takes us all and weighs us down and pulls through any imperfection into eye shot. Yet my hands were very vocal in my senses as they screamed magnificence and elegance. Fingers traced over naked skin at illusory coolness with a heat behind it. Closing my eyes I sense nothing but glory and awe.

I held her close as she held no restraint. She pressed against me as I realized very quickly that she was my missing piece that I sought for ages awake and millennia asleep. Her body held no secrets yet there was a desire to know every inch of her as I held her within my arms, embracing the curves of her back and the contours of her waist. She was every woman I have loved and many who have been at arms distance. The richness of her skin soothed the flame within me as I knew I finally found her.

Then what worried me?

The sound of her voice captivated my soul and still has some chains that drag me towards her now even though I know I do not want her near. The voices of angels can never rival hers as every word was filled with light and meaning with carefully chosen word left no hidden meaning and yet hid more than I can imagine. Her voice lifted me and held my mind in a focus never attain in calm matters. Her melodic words inspired me now to write this in some foolish attempt to capture my siren. To remember her for our next meeting although I know that our last meeting I will not leave her again.

I remember vanilla, honeysuckle, cinnamon and a faint jasmine with every breath. Hunger and lust entwined as I wanted her in every way. She was food, she was sex, she was blood, she was lust incarnate. She was the muse that driven men to build temples to her. Men to sing songs of need and woe of the heart. Painters to stare longingly at their masterpieces in slow madness as they cried silent tears at exquisiteness unattainable. It has driven men to enter mortal battle with only an understanding that their national Venus has been wooed away from them.

Men and their carnal desires. Worthy of getting us all killed. I've never understood.

Moments held for days as I opened my eyes. I still could not look at her directly as I stole glances at her who smiled ever sweetly. She knew I would slowly take her all in, lose all reserve and that time was on her side here. Mice never faces a feline such as her. She was a temptress of Olde and understood that one's fall is usually attained by their own means rather than any assistance. Many warriors have fallen on their swords not from shame, but as their only resolve in moments of passion. A clear mind in a tempest of passions high is as welcomed as any harbor.

I knew well she is my undoing. She is why I've made every haughty action and every hasty resolution. I've been ruled by her before and sought her in all moments, strong and weak. I have always sought her out and worshiped her secretly even in moments where my closest of brothers were chosen over me. I could hear a faint voice deep within, screaming yet muffled, to run and get away. I can hear my sense of survival and reptilian advisory to run fast, hard, and far. I was food, I was sex, I was blood.

Eyes opened to take her all in and I felt my inner resolve weaken and lose rally. She is everything I've wanted and needed in this life. To have her now would only make my life complete and fulfilled. Words escaped me and I could not understand what was said or what was shared. It was the end of the world as everything has crumbled around me and yet cared not. No one has understood where true loyalty emanate within man and how it rises. What makes us brothers and men. What drives us forward when there is no morrow. We all seek her out and I have her now in my arms. How can I loosen my grip? How can I avoid my fall.

I've spent most of my life repairing what I have wroth with mine own hands. I've have forced myself to not be the creature of passion and chaos. I've rebuilt much of what I have destroyed and have paid for blood all that I have shed. I've made peace with my actions and I have paid penance of what I've committed. I carry the scars of a survivor and the sin of one who will never live, but endure for the rest of his existence. My desire for my end has always driven me to the worst of who I was and will be. I've come to grips at my killing motives and made peace at not that I will be judged by heaven and earth, but will end my time of walking one day mid step, incomplete and faulty as the the day I screamed at birth.

What am I willing to do to embrace my inner nature once more? Am I willing to die now and resurrect a life of hell and anguish even if it is my inner nature?

No.

Even with her in my arms I wanted to let go. The fly suffers from anguish and remorse at it's discovery on whose meal it will become. The spider simply dines and becomes nourish at the self destructive impulse of another's nature. She dines not on treachery of her own nature, but of the noble action of removing chaos and entropy, enthroning ethaply. She simply restores harmony and peace. Her nature is to end me, regardless of how I changed. She will be my last moment and I can not escape her for long.

I looked at her eyes, pleadingly. I need more time. I'm not ready yet. I'm not willing to end my moment without finishing my task. Not understanding that I still hold on tight and still want to taste what my end would be. That is would resolve itself better without my hand at play, as it always have done and does not need my interference at any level to return to homeostasis. Life will prosper and time will continue to move on without any accordance of mine.

Perhaps it was empathy in her eyes. Mayhaps I earned a stay for what I asked for or it was simply her knowledge that I will return once again with my own will and actions and that she never called me to her, but simply hold me close when I'm more than willing. Her arms never let go of me as they never really held on. I simply released my own hold and regain my coil once more even though I know it is not mine to keep.

I slowly awaken and felt the anguish and loss of her. I know this now as I write this. I wanted her back in my arms and I rue that I ever let her go. I rise to write and remember who she was and if I could ever find her again. Perhaps my dream was prophetic and not symbolic in any way. Perhaps I shall find her in my last steps. Perhaps I will remain haunted by her face and see her in the corner of my eye or in the closing elevator. Perhaps I .....

...perhaps I need to start my day.

Did I dream you dreamed about me?
Were you hare when I was fox?
Now my foolish boat is leaning
Broken lovelorn on your rocks