More Dream than Love

I met love at Victoria’s Secret. I saw her walk in; and thus, I
Waited at a nearby bench. May I speak with you? She
Uttered, “Yes.” Such perfect complexion; and dreamy eyes.
“Pardon such boldness; but would you like to go out

Tonight?” She agreed. Time would pass, and love would
Sing; and so detached—an inward vice. The sand was cold;
And thus, we sat the swing. “What are your dreams,” she
Asked? I was lost for words; and torn by charm; and

Nevertheless, a wind ushered dreams: I’m a writer: I write
Poetry. I recited a verse, and spoke briefly: the wisest
Tongue. She gripped for heart, and coined a gaze. But ours
A dream—a tale of ghosts; and love was gray—a mythic
Scale. But tender thoughts—warmed the sheets; and welkin
Dreams—seized the heart.