Thursday, August 12, 2010

The morning after

The morning after,
Sleep floating in my eyes,
My hands searched the bed,
Only to form across empty space,
A solitary bridge.

The only witness to her presence,
A slight impression in the bed,
Defining the contours of her body,
Remembered still by my fingertips,
Imprisoned in a dream
Fading already.

Caressing the imprint,
The fugitive dream I tried to hold,
Unravelling with my fingers its knotted threads,
Till the sun intruded,
And the dream melted away,
Leaving nothing behind.

It was the morning after
A chance encounter with a stranger,
It was perhaps well that it ended so,
A dream dreamt in the shadows of the night,
Is seldom as beautiful,
In the harsh glare of the sun.

No comments:

Post a Comment