I woke today
as sleep found
your eyes and
I molded my
image as dreams
took over your
mind. With a
painted face, I
travel about this
day and still
you sleep as
if the sun
was not up
and traveling across
the sky and
the world was
paused as you
wrestled with your
nocturnal musings. My
own dreams are
nothing more than
my fading memory,
their shimmer drying
up under a
hot July sun's
unrelenting glare. I
am a shell
of those desires
with painted skin
molded ******* and
withering pale flesh