Only That

If not for you, I am but your dream. Only that.

Yet now, it seems, I have you,
at peace with your dreams within mine.
Love and hope and pain can all sleep, anew,
like twirled, lit ferris-wheels at night, combined.

If not for you, I am but your dream. Only that.

Singularly, Lover, sleep with our extremes.
Together, through places the thump and thought go,
delicate fingers pry open clenched themes,
to rest, open palmed, a release to bestow.

If not for you, I am but your dream. Only that.