You are my unicorn:
real and unreal,
a product of the imaginative,
but tied in the senses to the earth.
You live, but you have died, and in
your quiet sleep you come to me
as eIven, as person, as the dream
of what was and might have
been in the palace of beyond.
Come to me my unicorn, running and
free, and not constrained by your
earthen prison where suffering
was the course of your day.
Come to me and live forever in
these living thoughts that take
you too another place that