poem is never finished, only abandoned. ~Paul Valéry
Too awake to dream, too tired to sleep
I float on clouds, woven from sheer bliss
Scents beckon my nose to inhale
Your silhouette upon my pillow remains still..
A memory in which to wantonly wallow
A vision too delicious to quickly swallow
A forgotten kiss I find upon my breast
Begs me to place it in my hope chest...
Too frenzied to sit still, too content to move
I sway to music that plays only in my head
Sated breaths, heartbeats follow me to my bed
Where I sprawl, in love, waiting to dream again.