Watching the light slip out of the room.

I have been lying in bed all day since the dream

ended, waiting for it to begin again. The silence

that gathers in the room sounds like your name.

 

My head full of dreams my mouth tastes like wine

left over from the lips that I kissed last night.

Vines curl around your throat. Blue starlight filters in

from the outside, falls in stripes across the floor.

 

In the dark my room begins to smell like you.

My heart crows, my insides wilt, I know you are not here.

The dream must have begun again, an invisible bridge

crossed without my knowing. Classical music waltzes in.

 

The stars look cold and small, smoldering in their solitude.

One eye open, one eye shut, half the brain wakes and walks

in small circles, cycling the corners of the room. The other half

sighs, calculates your scent, allows the hand to touch a ghost. 

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About jbernsteinwrites

I enjoy writing, reading, watching movies, listening to music, cuddling, eating, drinking (a wide variety of liquids), and waking up in the morning.
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