The real world is a constant distraction.
I can’t pass a window or go out to the dumpster or drive to lunch without tracing the patterns of clouds in the sky, the passing sparrows, the shape of the spider’s web in the grass.
She calls to me on the wind, sweet fragrances dousing me, the gentle breeze embracing me, “You come, too.”.
She is the brilliant sun, she is the pale moon, she is the soft pillow of stars on which I lay my head to sleep.
I am deeply, helplessly, hopelessly in love with her.
She commands my senses always.