Yin Dreaming

I dreamt that the world opened up, and I was swallowed down its fiery throat.

I melted slowly in its bloody flames.

I waited to be born again,

and once I was, I waited even longer for you.

You and I were bound in fresh new skin

with crystal clear veins running like streams to a purified cognizance.

You were a new bloom of fleshed terrain,

and I yearned to flower into you with fervor.

I dreamt that we united in a fog of innocence

where I was amidst your warmth,

yet still chilled by my past as mindless magma,

walled away from freedom, and thousands of feet below you.

I dreaded the future even in your presence,

immune to the safety of your flesh between me and mine between yours.

I awaited the winter of our meet

when our bodies would wilt, and the petals of us would fall.

My dread would reach its end, the means etched into my soul.

Despite the trauma, I’ll realize the tragedy of the earth’s close.

I’ll yearn for the nightmare that was its bellowing flames.

I’ll wait for my rebirth and its accompanying pain.

Until then, I am just half of our whole.