Devils or Angels

Devils or Angels, which are we
who make love in our words so free
we dream together in a pact
but are we not caught in the act.
Where does fiction become fact
when minds caressing interact
in poetry a flight of words
that's more than something for the birds
but speaks the soul and makes us whole
in expressing all we know
of what we feel and what we want
a mansion that like ghosts we haunt.

But we must believe in turn
that dreams come true and so we learn
to weave our dreams as passions burn
fueled by the things for which we yearn
with dampers open of our faith
that dreaming doesn't go to waste
but comes alive at first inside
then outwardly in space and time
beginning with a poet's rhyme
that weaves a spell of love sublime
that angels hear in heavens clear
our devilish craft that draws them near.

In our dreaming is it wrong
to imagine we belong
together in this heavenly way
where Angels fear to tread, they say.
We love the nature of our words
each the other's -- with lines blurred.
If in outward reality
we're not in the same locality,
as within, is it a sin
that we're together when we're in
the inner realm where dreams emerge
that to their destiny will surge.

The female energy in your words
draws me in and so we merge.
You like the energy in mine
and so together our words bind.
Neither knows where this will lead.
For now the dream is all we need.
What happens later outwardly
will of its own accord proceed.
Dreams will come true their own way
in outward form from day to day.
As poets we can dream within
and so the keys to heaven win.