It's not a dream. It couldn't be a dream, and not because it felt so real. But because we bleed. So much thought, so much agony. So much Bliss. No pair was ever made to endure so much all at once. We MUST be aliens. We must be from another planet, or some long and lost race forgotten by time. Made from different dust. From extra-terrestrial ethereal substance.
Of course, there was nothing at first but a glance. Not more than a greeting or goodbye. Not more than a half second thought. But Love grew. Lack of words to a deep piercing into the ocean of our sunlit eyes, in moments. What normally takes years between two living things.
Fascination in the depth of something unknown, unseen, unspoken by the worlds breath. As if the powers that be had been stripped of their emotions and forced to see and learn what feeling really is. What feeling should be. We angered them with our Love. They took revenge on us out of their jealousy. They knew they had never seen, never heard, never lived, Love like this. Nor was it in their capacity to exude.
The sacred castle that should never have been under shroud, built itself quickly. A spire in the desert. A brook of water where there was only death. Now life stirred and thrived there. The spire still stands and will stand forever. A testament to Love's invention. It was built by their hands. Their blood spilled. It was their price for now what is witnessed.
And now what do we pay? Is there a cost to fix this? Could it be that simple...? Surely it would grow stronger and mightier than what opposes.
How do I Love her? HOW do I Love her? How do I keep her waters cool? Or temper her enough to keep her forever in my simple swimming hole, the abysmal existence only the Phantoms mask can mirror. Can I do such a thing? This gift to all that lives and Loves from the powers that be? High up in their shadows? Or would this be too much for anything depending on breath to live? I would that breath didn't exist.
He lived. He would have died to give her the rights to solace and unending peace from her historical torment. Leaving thousands at a loss for he was built solely to Love. Not just to the one.
Flowers wilt and sugar ferments. Night gets darker and the sun stays behind the thickness when she refuses her Love. Whomever she gives it to is immortal. Tragically ALL, except one whom was built for Love's sake. He was never immune. He is not immortal. The one whom has that burden and privilege to carry. Alone in strength from a higher entity.
So the world will be Loved and nurtured. She will be Loved and cherished. He...
That was our story...so far as I can see.
There is another that is stronger than he.
To be continued. Maybe not in this world. But in a dream world of dream-like reality. Perhaps, only a finger flick away.