The woman of my dreams; she isn’t there.

The woman of my dreams; she doesn’t care.

The woman of my dreams; she isn’t real.

The woman of my dreams knows not how I feel.

Yet I know her name, I know her look, I know her smell.

I know exactly how her body tastes as well.

I’ve traced her body from her head down to her toes.

I’ve gently stroked her face, her ears and her nose.

I’ve stroked my fingers through her brown, blonde hair.

I’ve watched her do her thing while unaware.

I’ve given her sweet kisses in the night,

I held her as I slept & it felt right.

Been on my mind every single day & night for years.

She’s been the cause,  and then the cure of my tears.

I always watch and wait to see her once again.

And when she’s there, I never want it all to end.

She knows me not  and yet I know her well.

I think it must be heaven where she dwells.

I always wish and wonder how we could meet.

I’d put my head down and I’d rub & kiss her feet.

I wonder if anyone could know just how this feels?

She’s real and yet she isn’t real.

Always imagining the life I live with this lady.

Yet I cannot even consider it a maybe.

So even though I know it never will be true.

All I can do is dream my every dream of you.