Questioning everything, saying nothing...

Does she sleep on the left side, regardless of the coast, or planetary alignment, or day of the week, or change in polarity between her east and west personalities? Do you hold her in her sleep? like a breathing time machine with lips a shade of homicide and kisses sharp like wasabi: unexpected, yet welcomed, refreshing, cleansing, a pain in your addictive nature? Do you trace that constellation of beauty marks in the hollow of her back? Bouncing between hemispheres of her cold blooded body to connect the dots. Do you pin her down beneath the warmth of your body and the sheets? just to admire the contrast of her ghost like flesh with your perfectly tan complexion? Does she whisper "Ahlam! Ahlam! A ahlam!" in your ear, confusing you with tongues that are not your own, like love notes disguised as riddles only your heart would care to investigate? Does she fall for your crooked smile, like you fell for her toothy one? Do nights feel like days, and vice versa? Does every second of contact seem infinite, and timeless? still and quiet? an endless highway on a canyon drive? or palmed in your hand on a walk downtown? or swinging beneath the falling stars on an adventure to nowhere? - but really, mon petit hiboux, you're going some 'where', but that 'where' defies Webster and conventional definitions of time, cause she's a time machine. Do you realize you're spiraling towards one another on the same plane, not the kind that takes you places, but the mathematical, metaphysical kind? The kind that moves in to the IV dimension. Do you feel the pull? Do you realize you're both on that plane [it exists because of you], that map, that is both in side you, and out side you, and in side her, and out side her, and in side the dead, and outside the living, and both a part of and not a part of everything seen and unseen... all at the same time, all before, during and after these words were ever thought, better yet written. It's all just a shiver of mindfulness and mindlessness, and you're moving really fast and slow at the same time, but in reality it can feel really lonely sometimes, but we're never[ever] really alone cause if we're a part of it, then it's a part of us, and she's a part of you, and you're a part of her, and you're everything and nothing at the same time. Isn't it great, when you can do anything? and everything? Are you writing down all the details of the pull? Ce n'est pas un rêve, mon rêveur... just close your eyes and revolve with me.