This morning when I awoke, my eyes still full of sleep,
hastened from my slumber in a state that was too deep.
The voice of the most wondrous woman that I have ever known,
beckoned me to open up my eyes by making low, sweet moans.

My focal point, not yet in focus; barely able to comprehend
I dig into the corner of my sockets, as if trying to extend
the dream of us lying intertwined was a secret that lied buried
deep inside the corners of my eyes that only my fingers carried.

As I pressed the corner of my bottom lip against my teeth,
knowing that the painted moving pictures I could never keep.
So, instead, I start to sit up to look outside this pane of glass,
and watch the reflection of you leave my eyes and then I let it pass.

My day goes on the same as always, uneventful and full of grief.
I let out a sigh and wonder why I can never find any soul relief.
Can mortals really consort with goddesses or this my erroneous belief?
My solace comes in dreams for now, even if the moments are only brief.