Memories of love spark dreams of comfort

I won't pretend to know what happened last night.
I decided to play the 8 hour Sleep by Max Richter, that by his own admission,  is a piece intended to be appreciated while sleeping.
I know that I had a couple of dreams that were very soothing.
One was about power sockets that needed replacement.
Another was about soothing displays of affection towards me. They were inspired by a love lived not so long ago and yet still yearned. I cannot say if the music just reflected a wish that seems to be impossible to take place in the current time line, but somehow felt as comfortable as the overwhelming nature of a perfect moment shared by two people who love each other without conditions, without rules, just fulfilling a desired to be accepted by the only person that makes sense.
The dream was not sensual, but it had the kindness of a kiss invented to express recognition of existence. On that moment, the memory of that kiss, felt to me as if I was the most significant person to the one that was kissing me. It was not a glorification, but tender, cared.
How the words fail  me now. How the  poet in me is still trapped in that dream, and refuses to put in to words the intensity of a love shared on a dream.
Sadly, this is the realm of reality, and I have no substance of experience to realize the nature of that feeling.
All I know is that is inspired by a moment once shared, and now is but a wishful thinking of that which reality brings me no further. The uniqueness of the purest kiss, conceived by the fairest of those who ever lived, can only be relived in this dreamers dream, for the motionless train can no longer carry the love of two, when one is burden by some other sort of love.
Of my lover I can only say this.
I hope that she may find in this reality a love so passionate and pure, as the one I lived on my memories last night as was performed by the cast of players of my dreams.
Selfishly, I shameless confess that I wish nothing more than to be the lover that gives and receives the building blocks of memories not yet formed, but forever yearned.
Dammit I love you
The emptiness lingers still as you are no where to be found, by your will alone.
May your will keep you out of harms way and remind you of endearing memories of my love for you, so that you may wake up in a dream fulfilled by your loving memories of me.