Sweet dream
You come to me in dreams — not as a ghost, but as a different plane of being.
Where I was finally seen. Not just a flicker caught —
But to burn as the sun for another sun. A shared sky.
And after that — how does one return to common measure?
How to breathe this thin, diluted air?
My world of reverie is not escape. It is the only dimension
Where we are true unto ourselves, and to eternity.
Thus pass my days: I wait for the night to fall,
To plunge into the deep end of oblivion once more.
And all I touch becomes a mere backdrop:
In the tea cup — the ghost of your smile,
In the city's roar — the scattered notes of your voice.
I have become a receiver, tuned to the constant signal
From a world where we truly exist.
In fevered breath and on the final mortal shore,
I will whisper your secret name.
It is my password to the quietus, my mantra, my cipher.
Whether I have lost my mind or touched the veil at last —
It matters not. This dream holds more substance than the waking.
We are binary stars from a shattered system,
Doomed to fall towards one another
Through the silent dark of all remaining worlds.
Автор: Пожарская Олеся
16.12.2025
#Поэзия #Sweetdream #сон #безумие #трансцендентнаялюбовь
