Phantasmagoria

Phantasmagoria; what I dream of. 
To dream of your hands enveloped into mine, lying down onto cream scarlet petunias. 
Tonight I will write 
a poem from honey dew.
A poem of sweet romance 
And sour lust. 

Tonight I will write of your crevices and carvings. 
Tonight I will write of those 
cloudy eyes; hints of imprisoned sunshine within them.

Tonight I will write a poem from 
hibiscuses 
laced 
into emerald green leaves. 

Tonight I will write of fairytales, 
From shadows and selfish.
Of reality 
and myths. 

Tonight I will write of clandestine kisses 
raindrops promise to engrave onto your skin
Of words I've written for you. 

Tonight I'll dream of 
you, hands clasped into mine, with a story stuck in my head, 
You'll live here, 
Between my pages,
without age or misery. 

Tonight I'll write of secrets 
And famine. 
Of wars we've fought and love we've conquered. 
A poem from 
moonlight and gleam. 

Tonight I'll write a poem from 
nectar 

Tonight you'll live between words and phrases.  Tonight I'll dream of you. 

Tonight I'll write a poem 
known to only us two, 

Tonight I'll write a poem of 

Me and you.