In Memoriam Bliss / Empty-handed (poem)
To dream such dreams,
to banish despair with the conjured light of face and form,
drawn perfectly from decades ago--
such is the magic of faerie wings and moon beams.
In that twisting and infinite moment,
perhaps a reflection of what was in another time or yet what might be,
I see her, for the first time in years, and know a joyous contentment
that I can no longer reach in the waking world.
In that moment, I break
quarantine and embrace her,
she melts into my arms and there is no boundary between
My hand seeks hers and she grips me fiercely,
as if afraid she will vanish into my unconscious once again.
I pull her somehow closer still, equally determined to hold her forever
but this happy dream cannot hold.
I cannot sleep forever.
I can already feel it collapsing,
She vanishes in an instant,
and all I feel is the dissipating warmth of her hand.
I wake totally
I wouldn't trade even a second of the dream,
yet I feel choked with such loss, such lonely grief,
that is the essence of despair.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (0 so far!)
- Published 10 months ago and featured 6 months ago.
- Story viewed 4 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?