You were always there, waiting in the wings of my mind.
Long before you were conceived I thought of you, longed for you, toyed with creating you.
Out of nowhere, you made yourself real, embryonic in my brain.
A fantasy conceived, yet to be realised.
With care and nurture, our dream developed – more vivid, more realistic, more erotic than my imagination ever afforded.
Mind games echoing their tune, over and over; make me real, make me real, make me real.
And so you were born, fantasy to surreal existence.
To be loved, to be savored, until the dream becomes but a sweet memory.
I will cherish you, my tenuous reality.
