A DREAM OF YOU
How strange it is to dream of you, even when I'm wide awake,
A surreal dance, a twist of fate.
In the daylight hours, in the midst of reality's call,
Your presence lingers, like a whispered thrall.
In the bustling streets, in the quiet of my mind,
Thoughts of you, so vividly defined.
In every moment, you seem to appear,
In every smile, in every tear.
How strange it is to dream of you when the world is bright,
A mystery unfolding, in the broad daylight.
In every thought, in every breath I take,
Your essence lingers, like a silent ache.
In the depths of consciousness, in the realm of the real,
Your presence haunts, a mesmerizing reel.
How strange it is to dream of you, even in the light of day,
A bittersweet reminder, that you're never far away.
☆ •°
YOU ARE READING
Five Phases of an Inamorata
PoetryIm writing this book, or more like a poetry book for my first love, not my 'first' but my first 'love'. These are all the thoughts I never got to say, and it ate me alive. The poems and letters he never got to read. My affection he never got to see...
