“dreams: four nineteen a.m.”
naked bodies dance
to music we made in his
soft linen sheets.
his Greenwich apartment
is filled with brick walls and unfinished art;
it smells of leather and rain.
we fold our bodies into different shapes
on mats on the floor.
he assures me
my heart will not break anymore.
i look at my hand and a ring
reminds me this is my forever
then my thoughts fade into heather.
my eyes spring open,
eager for his warm embrace-
instead i lay in an Ikea bed with jersey sheets.
i suppose i shall continue to dream until our hearts finally meet.
ar
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:21 AM UTC
“dreams: four nineteen a.m.”
naked bodies dance
to music we made in his
soft linen sheets.
his Greenwich apartment
is filled with brick walls and unfinished art;
it smells of leather and rain.
we fold our bodies into different shapes
on mats on the floor.
he assures me
my heart will not break anymore.
i look at my hand and a ring
reminds me this is my forever
then my thoughts fade into heather.
my eyes spring open,
eager for his warm embrace-
instead i lay in an Ikea bed with jersey sheets.
i suppose i shall continue to dream until our hearts finally meet.
ar
