Veronica

Must you wake me with riddles, though my dreams do not subside; I wish nothing more but to return to his stolid side. Must I find the time for this carelessness, sit with hands clasped in lap and carry on carefully so my heart may outgrow my chest? Must you creep slowly inside me, while I wash the plates on which we dine… while little tugs never cease at my dress, must I find the time? Were we born together? I cannot find the divide. May I only speak your name in the bedchambers of my mind? Should I never feel your lips upon my breast, doubtless yet I birthed them too. Does your key turn silent in my door, or will it never couple the metal? Surely it has done it a thousand times before. Must I slap the hand that deals, dealt a fate such is mine? Should I wrestle with this life? Must I mar and let mar? Must I dangle on this tine? Should I stand forever still clutching orchids, whilst they whoosh pass me in this station? Oh, never mind my dissatisfaction. Your fate for sure is worse than mine. For surely, you sleep in oblivion of The One being awaken with riddles.