Fantasy on a busy sidewalk ~   Leave a comment

Every night I dream of you,
I hate my dreams.
not real: why are you not mine?
Only the taste of your crimson lips can give me satisfaction.
Moist lips I have never kissed,
I hear your melodic voice in the wind,
Your joyful laughter warms me inside,
But it has been so long since I have been with you.
There is an emptiness inside:
Why won’t you fill it for me?
I continue dreaming.

I run into you on the street,
Your hair shines in the sun,
Smiling at me you make small talk.
You touch my arm, pure rapture,
My heart beets fast.
I hear small birds chirping as cars go by.

You talk to me of your life,
How things are going well,
What plans you are making for the future.
I hear everything.
But I am lost in your eyes, falling into your soul,
Golden and safe I fall inside of you,
Losing touch with what goes on around me,
And I want to pull you close and kiss those lips,
Yet all this is fantasy, time for you to go on,
never knowing how I have loved you my whole life.

 

 

© Copyright 2004 – 2012 Aarron Laidig

Posted March 4, 2012 by Aarron in Poetry Of My Making

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