This poem that I wrote for you

 

IMG_20151206_135936.jpg

 

 

Not very Dylan

 

Had my 115th dream about you and me

We were doing the only thing that still makes sense

An answer that has no question

The internal logic of skin on skin

 

Dreamed your breath in my ear

Like the ocean in a seashell

Quieting and stirring, both

The promise of a distant world, another life

 

I was holding your face between my hands

Brushing your lips with blurry fingers

There were tears

Don’t know if it was me who cried or you

 

Woke to a silent bed

Ate breakfast in an empty flat

Touched your picture on my dresser

And left to catch a crowded train.

 

 

 

Words and image are my own.

©2016

 

 

 

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4 thoughts on “This poem that I wrote for you

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