Might I find she
in the space of illusion
holds promise to Her eyes
some element of fashion
an intrigue is fantasy.
Clearly we met
within waves of wonder
the instance
in familiar panic,
the fear of ‘what if’ now.
Spoken word omits
itself in a dream state
only her vision
satin elegance
my own trepidation.
Emily
looked at life in an
Illusion
her quiet ‘diadem’
a silent retreat.
Oh if our poets could with their fever
Like a Dickinson dream love forever
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