Interminable love

Dreams sometimes feel too real for their own good. Emotions shackled, but yet feels not of a prisoner. Contemplating and prognosticating the future. Insomnia and counting the down the moments. The living seconds dying as the moment of truth arrives. With much more than a tinge of nerves from night to night. Laconic conversations with a plethora of meaning. An inadvertent loathe of the night for it seems to drag on till the morning. You can not seem to eschew the night and can not fray against it, so live with it. And wait for the day you can hand over your interminable love.