Groggy,
awoken by a harsh tone
unsympathetic to the delicate state
in which my mind remains
half clutching, memorizing the calm

A fragile existence
built to long upon lust and desires
buried so far below natural thought
unnaturally woven into undetermined
projections

The eyes and smile and picture of you
so familliar then
The electricity pulsating through
touch
the lyrics sung on the tip of my tongue
caressed carefully by consciousness
hidden by greed of selfishness
that you are mine
I am yours

But artificial yellows dank and austere
swell before me
which pale in comparison to
golden hues of fog employed
to haunt and taunt the waking memory  
fragmenting a joyful slumber
into only a few definable visions where you remain