Poetry (words)

In dreams. 


Last night I dreamt of you. Not sure if it’s habit, but it’s something I often do. 

Strange how familiar it’s seems to feel your clothing in my dreams. Like reality on my fingertips, the shape of your mouth, the curve of your hips. 

The alarm the intruder that calls the shots, it shatters momentum and shapes the plots. But throughout the day those scenes return, for that reality I yearn.

Where I run my fingers through you hair and tell you the thoughts only we could share. I bite my tongue and taste you still. I close my eyes just to feel. 

Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s