aching lungs

I stumble into your quarters, a territory familiar, however forbidden, thus lost in the shroud of mystery coated with excitement.
my feet lightly tread so as to not make a sound, my presence unheard, otherwise expelled.
I found myself in your laboratory, lenses plastered upon the wall, various trinkets and creatures resting or thriving in their enclosures.
your notes upon the table told of strange studies - the nerves connected to the heart, and how they would fair with stretching too far a distance for one to bare.
my eye passed through the telescope and submerged into a whirlpool, its waves crashing with such pressure upon the walls,
and the white speckled salmon broke free from the rapids, leaped to and fro, falling to the foaming disasters at the length of the waterfall somewhere below.
I fell before them, watched as they faded to stars screaming away in the night sky.
I crashed to the pale grass bed, the earth welcoming my body, a bleached rock cushioned to rest my head,
and I slumbered upon your mattress, where you have so many nights before me.
your pillow is full of your thoughts and dreams which leaked through and are held securely within -
will I e'er have them projected to my own mind?,
or shall I bear an offering of my own deepest desires, to be mixed in with yours?
and perhaps we will find each other there, if I may think of you alone before my consciousness falls victim to the blackness of sleep.
and the golden-feathered quill rides the drifts and swirls about me in the darkness.
the shades are lifted in the west, your face, looking with puzzlement into the distance.
I look, and before us, a crowd of seen and unseen, heard and unheard of.
the golden feather takes flight, you following not far behind,
escaping me through a door, and I refuse to lose you.
finding my way in, you stand behind a mirror, straightening your dressy attire.
I come forth to claim you, black material trailing my dress, and hold your smoothen face in my palm -
but my hand is found foreign upon your cheek, my lips colder yet.
disheartened, I exit through the door into the world, deposited into a barren parking lot
with a single streetlight towering over me, emitting a misty gleam.
I look towards it, find a stream of green swirling about it.
as a voice shouts behind me, I recognize my father in the ghostly shroud, and he calls me to.
I leap from my feet before the voice captures me, to join him -
and I pull your blankets ever closer, so that I may fill my aching lungs with you.