His and Mine

the first of all my dreams was of
a lover and his only love,
strolling slowly (mind in mind)
through some green mysterious land

until my second dream begins --
the sky is wild with leaves;which dance
and dancing swoop(and swooping whirl
over a frightened boy and girl)

but that mere fury soon became
silence:in hunger always whom
two tiny selves sleep(doll by doll)
motionless under magical

foreverfully falling snow.
And then this dreamer wept:and so
she quickly dreamed a dream of spring
--how you and i are blossoming

~ e. e. cummings

Love, love, love that poem.

mine:

Such big dreams for two tiny selves
Both are tired, true, denied, decided
Veiled behind a soft curtain of lashes
Lulled by the whisper of your hopes and dreams

I fall silently
Want to match my breathing to yours
Drowning in your scent
Taste you on my lips

Draw us a bath of moonbeams
Tell me a story of a girl like me and
A boy as you
Abandon our fear, our pride
Decide to let me see you sleepy

Fading fast, blanketed in a delicate grayness

New morning’s twilight behaves like a thief
Raping our celestial bath with a sieve
Drawing out our moistness, our stickiness
Kissing the earth with our sweetest dew
~me