I’m dreaming of weaving my desires

Betwixt butterfly wings

To fly in the breeze

And magically land in a king’s territory.

My essence would be found floating in the mist,

Immersing the concourse on which he stands

With sparkles of love

Brushing his heart with colors

Seen only in the cosmos.

Beauty in his eyes.

My name on his lips.

I was only dreaming,

Kaleidoscoping through electric glass

That shocked reality back into place.

Lightning bolts of honesty

Bursting profoundly through my chest.

“He loves me”, “he loves me not”

Every word spoken plucked hope out of my heart.

A roseless stem,

Growing blindly in the wrong direction,

Hoping for a “love me” phrase alone.

He must have forgotten to speak

For I waited desperately

In a silence that protruded my ears.

“he loves me not”, he repeats.

He stops.

I listen and blink.

Letting tears roll off my cheek and down my chin,

Dripping in the soil.

But from there, a new rose must bloom with a ruby forming from within.

And emerging from the Earth shall be a new beginning.