I’m a Fluid Faucet of Dreams, my Love

I’m a fluid faucet of dreams, my love; assuage my feening soul;
For kismet, the augury of love, a taste of passion. But sodden
With sorrow, my flooded heart, for divinity has yet to flourish.
Thus conjure the ghost, my love. Make haste to touch the future.
For such fervor, the rune of a nightmare; and I long my fated
Amore. Such power punctures the soul; I’m soaked in fervent
Particles. But the magic is vague, a hint of anguish, for I pine
The aloof, aloft the mystic.

I’m a fluid faucet of dreams, my love—longing the unborn kiss.
Such truth, the sureness of scars. But dreamy-eyed tears—wish for
Love. Thus a fatal mistake—to woo a phantom. Wherefore a
Sullen heart, aloft the mystic. But spirit born a solemn ache.
Whereby possessed, this sacred soul. And billow affection, my
Flaming heart, for frantic, this fulgent spark.