The subject is the object.

If I saw you at the fair

Like a fair lady in lace

In the world Imaginary

Velvety gloves

Holding orbs of light

Breast alive and free

Pure as Jesus

And swaying in the breeze

Under the pointy stars

I held your breasts at the fair

But really just a delicate hand

While the breast were well covered

As you sat on a rocking horse

Where a rocking chair nicely formed

And through this dream I saw a door

Doors are designed to open or close

And then they bang about.