Meandering

As the cabin fills, glimpses of dreams, and memories of games, fill my mind. The creative kind, where they get made up on the spot, but you've never had more fun.  I see you more rarely than it seems I should, but I sense you more often. Even now I see you while looking over my shoulder, just where I was training the corner of my eye to see clearly moments ago.  When you're directly around, I still get nervous, be it dream or otherwise. Perhaps that or the mirror image of that is why we don't connect all the time. It's cool though, we'll get there, I can sense it, and soon. Perhaps it is sins, or sins perceived, piled up over a lifetime, that keep us apart. I know my subconscious harbors regrets not spoken of here or anywhere really. For some reason I imagine you know of these already and do not stay away for the sake of those, but for mirrored offenses on your side that you think I am unaware of. And perhaps consciously I am unaware, but I have my suspicions, and at a core level anything I could imagine could be overcome, if it is even an issue at the final reveal at all. I have seen the paired dream, I know the cold dark, and I realize that despite the dreamscape being filled it can be emptied just the same. Consentual reality is the only alternative to singular perspective madness, and so I seek to understand it, as spiralling mirrors shatter beneath me.  An infinite staircase of reflection fills my head, as synapses speak of love and my heart beats to the tempo of your song. I realize that there are junctions that cannot be turned back from, they are rare and possibly unique, but once perceived, they have already been passed through.  So I proceed from this hole cut in the wall, whistling a tune as I stride through the gap between your world and mine.  Meandering no more, now I am on a mission. I hear you. I see you saying more than you have in years, seemingly more than you ever have. Clues and signposts to indicate our connections still stand as strong for you as they have for me, in this decade since our first touch. I have caught glimpses of the conspirators and fearful plans, made in vain, paper thin and disparate, already scattered to the four winds. It may not be the whole story, as I have been thinking as well, but I definitely understand your hesitancy better than before.  The shape of heaven, formed flawlessly through your eyes, unfurls in my mind like a scroll. I wear a coat with pockets, protection and freedom guaranteed for all, in varying measures appropriate to each, about my body. I make my way to you.  Consider this my nesting, and subsequent display. Now I wait for you, for the dance begin, to mark the end of the initial courtship, and the beginning of something far grander.