fascination

Your dreams are my wishes,
formed into sentences,
like four-cornered hats,
and bakery windows,
like riding a wild elephant
through mad jungles,
their vines overtaking
our legs and our arms,
and we let them,
because it feels
so
good.
Your words are my prophecies,
lined with trap doors and
looking glasses,
painted eggs and
witch brooms,
I can taste them and they are
my destiny,
raspberries and goat cheese.
Formalities are a lost art
for us.
We love from the start.

43 Comments

              1. I mean the language, the problem with me is I cant express although the thought is nice I cant put it in proper words like you and other people

                in my local language it is okay for me

                I am from Mumbai, India

  1. Really like this poem. It really reminds me of my best friend and I. Eccentric and kind of mad like Alice in Wonderland. And one time, visiting our college and staying at a bed and breakfast with other friends, the owners served us a huge spring-mix garden salad with – you wouldn’t believe – raspberries and goat cheese. And yes, it is an amazing combination. The goat cheese so creamy cold next to the sweet berries 🙂 Needless to say, I connected with this poem! I dig it.

  2. details, juxtapositions that simply leave me smiling (as in the already mentioned raspberries and goat cheese LOL) and just a great use of concrete visuals … loved it!

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