...in the middle of dreams where I feel fingertips on the back of my neck, touching that low spot on the back of my head. For a moment I stop breathing

to catch my butterflies that flutter in my veins. So I'm restless to touch back, but it's never necessary, because where breaths hold still, hearts are sewn together

with blue threads. And in time, mended hearts will heal without scars

that show timeless truth
in our active, neverending
endeavor for love.