we are not the
nicholas sparks novel
read wrapped in comfort
of store-bought quilts
on rainy days

or an ed sheeran song
in long-haul flights
flying us
into one another's
longing embrace
once in
a blue moon

how long will
the movie screens
and best-selling novels
continue to
romanticise a
love like
ours
all of its
torturous;
troubling;
tragic glory

even with dreams
of your laugh
and the most short-lived
imageries of your crescent eyes
the sheets on your side
of the bed remain
perfectly
uncreased
i cannot stop
my heavy lids
and tired bones
from gravitating into
both Arcadia
and Erebus:
another
sweet,
wicked
dream
of
**you.