Bemused

The dreams I weave inside my head
Devour my days
I love you in ways
I never can standing before you.
See me behind the mirror
I quietly say
As you look at yourself
I am a doll you fashioned
With your own eyes and own hands
And I dance,
Not to the melodies you play
But to distant symphonies
Inside my head.

I Wish

I wish to write of love
I am afraid I won’t stop
If I start
Do I know what it is?
I cannot say if I ever walked its fields
If I ever saw its sky, breathed its air,
Felt its ground beneath my feet.
Yet I wish to write of love
I am afraid I will stop
Before I can ever start.
How would I write of feeling
A world I have never touched?