I dreamt of being…

I dreamt of being…

I dreamt of
being,
waking
slowly from sleep
arms and legs
like things of light
finding
themselves solid,
wings stretching
forth like the morning sun,
but then I realized.
I wasn’t the one waking,
but I only dreamt.
I did not know the world
around me,
shape it,
or make it
real with my thoughts.
The universe was making me real
through it’s own Being.
I was the illusion taking form.
You,
legs tucked into mine
breathing down the nape of my neck,
were dreaming me.

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