MAN OF MYSTERY, THE AWAKENING

When in that faraway and secreted place where only my mind can travel, my senses are finely tuned. I can taste the tender sweetness of your lips as they brush against mine, hear your heart pounding within the human confines of your chest, inhale your masculine essence like an expensive perfume, and feel your touch while your arms embrace and encircle my pale body.

Although exquisite beyond words, I am sad for only four of my senses are keenly aware. Blessed sight is absent. Your face and expressions conceal themselves, constantly veiled by the misty, midnight shadows. When I return from my faraway place, I awaken to the empty reality of a new dawn, finding myself still alone and always aching for your actual presence. O’, man of mystery, why is it that you remain elusive? What is your raison d'être? Uniting only in dreams is a meager substitute for the possible realities of unrestrained love.

Precious life is too brief for the mind to play games of hide and seek with the heart. Have mercy on my poor, pathetic soul. Have pity on my hurting heart. Have compassion for my hollow being. I entreat you to reveal yourself. O’, man of mystery, humbly I beseech you to come into the light where all my senses can flourish, where I can love you totally unfettered by midnight’s blindness.