My dreams trace your laugh-lines
and sparkles part grey clouds between light lashes
Fingertips brush tensed lips to release breath
held within a chest hungry for my hands
My muscles clench at the rustle of my lonely sheets
Sticky with desire I cage behind my eyelids until
My pale lips twist ruefully, the fun teenage fantasies
disintegrating beneath the glaring dawn of another monday morning
My barefeet flinch as I trudge to pull on another pitstained tshirt
before beginning an another obligatory run
While the warmth fades from my soft sheets
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (1 so far!)
I can almost always empathize with your poems and this one is no different. Dreams can be so potent and vivid, an Oz to reality's Kansas. Always good to see more work by you.
- #3850 Posted 2 years ago
- Published 2 years ago.
- Story viewed 7 times and rated 0 times.
All stories on Ficlatté are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 License. What does this mean?