Lovers do come and lovers do go,
Presence be fleeting before they disappear,
Through the beats of my heart's to and fro,
And I dream dreams of Hemingway and Shakespeare.
Dreams which I find no likeness when I wake,
Dreams that are better to be forgotten for my own sake.

*** forma dilapsus amor

Indeed indeed there has been time for dreams
Dreams of the deeds and feats of you and me
Dreams of figments that tear me apart at the seams
Dreams of the fanciful and redeeming “we”
But dreams are ****** to remain mere dreams
Cursed with the promise of pyrite’s gleams

*** forma dilapsus amor

A thousand little words left unsaid,
A thousand petty fears unrestrained,
That coalesce into a half empty bed,
Which may leave while I stay chained.
Dreaming of faceless figures; whoever they may be,
I do not think that they may dream of me.

*** forma dilapsus amor

They surely dream of such pretty things
Of love and fate; not lust and chance  
Of handsome men and diamond rings
Of futures past our temporary dalliance
Never turning to any thought of me
Fantastical loves but never one given in reality

*** forma dilapsus amor

Tired lines are painted across my forehead,
Tattoos fade to grey, losing shape and matter,
Body aching and waiting in a half empty bed,
Ears ringing as old dreams now collapse and shatter.
No sounds of cries nor hushed prayers
Save my own, that fill the cold desolate air.

*** forma dilapsus amor