Archive of Longing.

I long to meet you on a spring evening

when dreams bleed back into the city's ruptured veins.

While we gather the moonlight, scattered in smithereens.

When the rusted end of the highway bridge smiles in accord with the flamboyant evening

and the rainbow shines through our skins.

I long to meet you when wilderness peeps through the veneer of nostalgia.

I long to meet you when mystic magic shall reverberate through the thin air

when

your fingers like a magic wand run through my hair.

I long to meet you on a summer evening

under the shade of the plum tree, speaking of our dreams.

Our hearts resounding with the dulcet of the wind shall be scribbling a new breve!

I long to meet you on an autumn noon.

When the season's golden hue will render an incandescent vibrance to our youth.

I long to meet you on a winter morning

When the mist on the leaves sparkle like our iridescent crystalline chimera.

When the footprints on the snow shall scribble whimsical winter tales.

While we bury our frosty hands inside furry fantasies.

Till then I shall keep safe my 

archive of longing

 wrapped within my dreamy ignis fatuus.