Reverie

The heavy blow of ambience so captivating

seeks shelter in your window 

filled with resilience and words of thriving scars alike. 

Situated amidst your tapestry of life,

and within the heathers some time I wished to be burnt,

within the pages of notebooks better torn,

and within the sheets of overly craved ransom 

somewhere mystically befalling the unknown. 

I stand with you, darling. 

Amidst the roses of no colors,

the emptiness in you sulking the life of mine too, 

and with the gaze of the eyes sheltered in the anonymity of

lifeless paradise. Hunger is there, 

and there is the warp of time fueled with trepidation,

standing along with you feels like a crime. 

A crime so subtle, it takes away the essence of criminality,

you seek the prison like your home, 

and make me a guard.

I recklessly,

accept. 


You make me humanly sublime,

take my words for the bereavement of the hefty presence 

you wished was never there. 

You walk to me, and I give color to your roses, 

little by little,

monochromatic, the film plays, the windows shutter,

and on a white canvas, you draw your world of epiphany. 

Dark and bejeweled, a soulless human stands, 

painted in the sky of silence. 

You engulf me dear, 

and I let you. 


Wise words I say to you, and in return, you give me your tunes,

miraculous, lively, they savor the room with the music

so loud and so sweet. You make me your song, 

and I thrive in it. You make me your love, 

and I utterly enjoy it. But, what is this? 

Freedom, or clarity dear? To see you and feel lonely,

to leave you and feel nothing. 

To be yours and yet be alone enough 

to crave a life of love. 

You are dark, honey. 

Utterly dark. I enjoyed you with my patience, 

I loved you with my silence. 

Now that I take my cigar again, 

I don't feel like loving you.

But, I do.


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