Alma Pandora

My mind recalls the way you looked,
amidst my dreaming world.
You stood, your hands behind your back,
looked coyly at the ground.

Your hair was short, a darken shade;
your eyes were forest green.
Your skin was rich, an olive tone,
with freckles on your cheeks.

You had a way that's so familiar,
the woman of my dreams.
You changed your look to suit my taste
for girls on the screen.

When next I dream of you, my dear
I want to see your face.
Don't be embarrassed of your looks,
fair child of the gnostic race.

Here,
I identify three seperate ones:
The first,
an earthy child with long brunette hair;
The second,
a fiery child with long blonde hair;
The third, Alma.
These are girls I have met in my dreams,
knowing them to be of my dreams.

(Alma: I took the form of Kirsten so that I wouldn't be scared to touch you. That form was like a mask, or a costume, and it helped me to feel more confident. In my real form, I am quite scared of most things; I'm a nervous wreck. I took Kirsten's form so that I wouldn't be puking from nervousness. You see, the form we have, or the appearance we show, can either deflect or absorb energy; Kirsten's appearance and form absorb positive energy, so it helped me to be comfortable around you. Most of the time, I am only with you in spirit, having no form or appearance, so I am confident in my invisibility. It will take me degrees to be more confident in your presence while in my real form.) Take your time.

I am reminded of another dream where I played the part of the invisible companion. I was with a girl who lived in a space ship. She was at a console, unaware of my presence (or aware at a subconscious level), but I was hugging her and adoring her. It was actually quite nice because there was no need for propriety.