Dear young love

(Sonnet)

Dear young love,

You come to me in the form of a sprite,

       sitting by a stream running through my dream;

                   I cup the water in my hands real tight.

Your reflection gleams, just like a moonbeam,

           and trickles through my fingers when I lift

                   it to my lips, sipping in your moonlight;

We dance on the water and start to drift

         over the hills, into the starry night,

                   deep into memories of a time when

                              we were young, and you were still alive.

Love was raw, and you were beautiful then.

            

                     So beautiful.                        And so fucking alive.

The sun wakes up; I fight its blaring scream.

You fade away, locked inside a distant dream.