April 18, 2010

the mornings after . . .


the mornings after you visit my dreams
i wake up to this feeling you were there
with me in that comfort of white sheets
as the warm sun rises and rustles us from our slumber
i always long to feel your body insinuated next to mine
your skin as soft as that morning sun
the scent that is our love
as i trace the ink along your skin with soft fingertips
till your beautiful smile greets me with warm love
the morning sun lighting our eyes
this is the dream the morning after

yet this morning love
i woke to this feeling
all my poetic license are just
words someone else will read
and your heart will not hear
you visited my dreams last night
with the flurry of a fiery red maelstrom
for the things i have yet to do
i know what is coming
or rather what i am about to choose

i awake this morning to that same warm yellow sun
on white sheets i wish i shared with you
yet love, this poetic license
is it winning your heart with words?
or as you are off in a world outside of here
is the distance and silence between us
greater than my words can span
i want your heart and soul
and that warm summer sun to shine
on our love, to write this storybook affair

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