Sunlight; you’re out my window.
Smiling; I look down and see a friend, a lover
The perfect match.*

But my window is closed and the curtains are drawn, someone is laughing
But it is not me
My tired eyes scan the room
My dream has imprinted itself to the skull of which I cannot break.

Poems that do not rhyme,
Songs without rhythmic time
Footsteps and dollar store wine
Wall mart rings, of promise and other silly things.
The one that was laughing has left
And I feel she was part of the theft
Of the beautiful thought I once had.
I’ve gone mad.