The Mind in the Night

This is a poem I wrote a little while ago about the relationship between the conscious and the subconscious (or unconscious). I'm still trying to decided if I like it or not. I think there's a lot of room for improvement, so let me know if you see anything that needs work (I'm sure you will - I hope).

We flowed from our dreams into being -

Touched only with our fingers, entwined,

No warmth in our chilled translucent skin -

Spoke only silent words,

Our ghostly breaths on the night air

The echoes of thoughts.

Our pale voices were petals of cherry blossoms, 
locked under the black surface of water,

Ever drifting, mere shadows of light - thin, and soft

There was no fleeting reality as we walked across crystalline waves

And the frothy sea foam washed over our feet.

We swept through the stars, hovering around us like icy fireflies;

Our cold lips were parted as if to let our souls escape...

So we lasted, until the dawn began,

Until dusk shattered our fragile darkness

And sent us back into our dreams.