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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