I wholeheartedly believe we are responsible for breathing the life into our own desires.
That we draw to us the keys that unlock those parts of ourselves we thought might be rusted shut.  

Tracing the slow, low, vibrating hum  
of a thought with your minds eye,  
watching it take form,
as if emerging from a dark lake,
until you begin to feel your finger
tracing the outline of her clavicle,
her skin dripping wet.  

You might see this desire come to fruition, looking deep into my eyes, dark like the night that holds the wisdom we experience through our dreams.
Running your hand through my hair as wild as the ocean.
Your body with all the decisions you've made and paths you've chosen somehow leading straight into my body.

This note is the sensation of smooth metal under your foot as you walk on the beach, you look down, brush the sand out of the way, and see an antique brass key. This note is the sensation of knowing exactly the door in which the key will turn the lock...

Mya Midnigh