The dreamscape dissolves
and I awake
in the dim light of
small hours,
without you.
My eyes
trace a thin outline
upon hesitant shadows
roving the ceiling,
revealing the shape of
my diaphanous affinity
for the way
you move.
Why must I
always ache
for forbidden fruit?
Restless now,
I surrender to morning,
start the coffee,
and watch the world wake
from my window.
My mind is
tangled fragments
of moments
where our eyes meet
and you know
everything
I am thinking.
Soon, the city lights
are overcome
by the sun
and I unravel
on the floor,
unsure of
your next
move.
Have I even
crossed
your mind?
Breathless and drifting,
I am untethered,
in this vast ocean
of what could be,
yearning for proximity
to your corporeal form.
Resigned for now,
to overcome
this
withdrawal
and
distill designs
for your heart.
Window Pain
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