Monday, March 21, 2011
What happens to promises after the sun comes up? Telling each other that not a day will go by without saying I love you; that we'll make love each day? What happens in our sleep that erases the deep seeded feelings of you're the only one for me? What type of sleep nymph skips through our dreams and sprinkles amnesiac dust over our gray cells? Does she laugh as she skips? And where in all her might does she not feel some compassion for the one who grasps for a shred of emotion? Does ice run through her veins? Does the night make all the difference in our life, removing promises and leaving nothing new for the sun to raise? Not one shred of evidence that I once loved you with every bit of my soul? Where is that soul now? Passion diluted with a few hours of dream time, the mighty eraser known as dreamland. Weary is my heart for it has no one to cling to during nightmares, leaving me cold, alone and without one shred of recognition.