every now i pretend

every now, i pretend
in open fields where dandelions
bloom.  where then replays beneath
a two person moon and birds weep
to our whispers that brush upon
the softness of hope.
 
every now, i pretend the chill
of metal is the brass of our bed
and gowns are made from  
daises-laced-silk torn from  
 your touch...
 
every now i remember then
 and
   sigh