Broken Dream
She lies in her bed
wrapped in the darkness
of the deepest part of the night,
imagining,
waiting for her dream to come alive,
a dream with many names
but no face;
waiting for her love to come alive,
a love with many words
but no body;
imagining
a voice to say the words,
and lips to search her skin.
Abruptly, the dream closes down,
replaced by
a hot torrent of tears
sliding off her cheeks -
the only feeling now allowed;
her tear-dampened pillow
her only comfort
as she waits for light to erase the night
and her longing.
Carl - March 28, 1999