Dreams and the Belle

I hardly remember any of my dreams. But I want to believe it is you that I always dream of. Who else can it be?
I wonder how far I am from you. How far in miles? How many steps? If I run, how long would it take before I reach you? Before my breath is drained?
Sometimes I feel so far from you; sometimes I feel so near. So near I could smell your breath. These moments I so long for. Nobody could tell that while I go about my routine, it is you that I think of. I think of how your eyes speak to mine. I think of how your touch leaves me weak and wanting. I think of how you burn me; how you melt me; how you give life to every inch of me. I think of how you listen to my heartbeat. Do you hear how my heart sings for you? Do you hear it scream your name?