A Waking Dream
Are you real?
Are you really here?
Or are you some phantasm,
Some desire conjured to flesh
By a hungry brain
And a heart overflowing
To emptiness?
Suddenly your weight in my hands
Has meaning;
The lines my fingers trace
Speak a sensual truth.
Fantasy, poetry crumble away,
Bags of dusty bones,
Murdered and buried
By the cold hard fact
Of your soft warmth.
I believe in you.
Are you real?
Are you really here?
Or are you some phantasm,
Some desire conjured to flesh
By a hungry brain
And a heart overflowing
To emptiness?
Suddenly your weight in my hands
Has meaning;
The lines my fingers trace
Speak a sensual truth.
Fantasy, poetry crumble away,
Bags of dusty bones,
Murdered and buried
By the cold hard fact
Of your soft warmth.
I believe in you.
i like the poetry, though it is bittersweet.
how are the girls? how have you been?
how was xmas? blah blah blah?