The Dream

For one moment, I had life—I lived, I felt, I cried.

My flesh, taut over my cheeks, had color—I pained,

And from the agony came rebirth, joy, and desire.

By the most serendipitous turn of events, you were

There too, in the dream—the single moment of life

In an otherwise statuesque series of heartbeats.

I don’t remember why, but you were smiling…

There in the dream. It didn’t seem to matter,

Because fortune should have it, I was smiling too.

And though when you spoke, it was not English,

We both spoke gibberish, there in the dream,

As such, we seemed to communicate fine.

For some reason I couldn’t understand

The need of yours to pull upon my heartstrings,

Until the illusion was shattered, and I awoke.

My eyes shot open, my fingers clawed the sheets,

Trying to pull back time, regain the memory

Of when we both sat across from the sea,

Staring at the deluded sunset of my cognition.

There was no temporal component to our lives,

The stories we exchanged, are tales to never be.

We both existed as ghosts within

The confines of my twisted dream—

The Eden I whittled, was blown out like the

Last flickering flame we lit, the flame we lit

Within the dream.

         DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com