Dreaming Of You

  

08.08.2011  

I dreamt about you last night. 

Your hazel hair. 

Your apricot lips. 

We talked cordially. 

Deliberately, I avoided the past, wanting you to stay. 

There was a lot of tension between us. 

You stayed. 

It seemed like you wanted to rest. 

In that moment between sleep and wake, you drifted away. 

And with you disappeared your hair, your lips, and the words you spoke. 

We almost escaped. 

It was as if I turned back a moment too soon and negated a secret agreement with the underworld. 

And now you are like a vagary. 

My mind’s fingers meander through the darkness, grasping at disappearing memories. 

I am fully awake. 

I don’t know how I got here. 

But I know you were here. 

Your scent remains. 

The longing presses on my chest and lingers in the stinging wells of my eyes. 

I’ll leave you alone. 

I’ll let you rest. 

It never occured to me that I was hurting you by holding on.  

I know I shouldn’t be missing you. 

It shouldn’t be this hard.