It comes back as a shadow, relation to the dream
one would be in the light, the other in my sleep
neither I could touch, not in that special way
their distance is not the cause, each fills my life's expanse
nature asks for payment when bodies are embraced
now dead are present, the living in the past.
False echoes are all I have, warmth in the bodies held
sadly they are a ghost, cold as the arctic breeze
color mocks the rainbow's hue when flesh is all I see
disguises meant to trick when tints are turned to gray
the curves are real enough, the lines with passion's pulse
sadly they were prized to be the path from pain.
I forget when it began when the act has found its end
was pleasure my only goal or was it forgetfulness?
the fury blessed one moment, now the present finds reign again
the firmness is discarded when undress finds its shame
the dead will fill its breadth when the pit asks for its due
especially when the numb walk in memories' grasp.
© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170217.