Before the dream began

Do you hear me?
can you see me?
and if you do
would you listen like you used to do?

are you there with those painted hands
that run through your long and silky hair?
can you hear me now?

It’s like the echo that reverberates
the longing for and how it aches
how long it takes

can you hear me?

the change of pitch,
the plaintive cries
the wideness of an ocean
that I see behind your eyes
and if I drown in them
what then?

© 2018, John Smallshaw.