The thought slips away
slithering into a dream
crafted by my mind
designed to mask the illusion
of happiness…
Bright eyes
sparkling with unshed tears
a glimmer shimmers,
yet,
in my dreams
awakening my soul
lifting away
to the other side of the city
into the room
where he sleeps…
I crawl to snuggle
his smell permeating my senses
as warm hands
burn my skin…
We make love
and I sleep then, returning
to my dreams
to my thought…awaken
to step into another day.
A contest entry
- transcendentalism by unraveled.
400 points, ended January 28, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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I love the story you paint, though I found the font color to be a bit painful for my eyes. This part really spoke to me: "I crawl to snuggle/ his smell permeating my senses as warm hands burn my skin... we make love"
Dreamy, yet something about it strikes me as incomplete. I can't figure out what. Thank you for the entry,
-cassidy
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Sandy your writes paint such vivid pictures that it is a pleasure reading them always-
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