Implausible, or so it seems
but real or not, can you conceive
the truth that hides inside our dreams?
Where deep within such altered state
the past and present interweave.
and hidden secrets come to light
in rhythmic breathing of the night;
and all the things we dare not say
slip the confines of the day
to acquiesce. reshape, refine
and coalesce inside our mind.
Somewhere in this tug of war,
the soul cries out for want of more:
the long forgotten touch of skin
the ardor hidden in a look
a thirst, found quenched inside rapport,
the heat exploding from within;
new worlds to map, and to explore–
for now we tread this in-between
and bide our time inside a dream.
© Ginny Brannan 2026
