A shredding. A tearing of it.
Pointed finger stirring through it like a child does with milk skin
in a hot drink.
There the hopes, too blind to look into the eyes of, scurry away like frightened silverfish.
Who's? Who's are they? Surely not mine.

Soft, milky white, creamy,
Rippling with the tides’ collision,
A heat envelops me,
Dripping with sweetness,
I’m parched, yearning for sustenance,
Sustained rhythms, syncopated patterns,
Ripping through the night sky,
Carried out in falsetto, sung praises,
Affirming every sequence,
Clenching with squelched wrenching,
With felt panting of lost breaths,
I stand upon the precipice,
In parallel with this blissful moment.

May we expire this little death,
Together as we sink to catch our breaths,
Enshrined in silk and Egyptian cotton,
Entwined like ivy vines,
I’ll be yours if you say you’re mine,
We can tangle endlessly,
Lovers at midnight,
Sweet like caramel,
Stuck to each other through thick and thin.

Dreams, so many dreams
Some forgotten, some waiting to happen

am I one of those dreams?
forgotten after the morning alarm
or waiting to come knocking?

forgotten, or waiting to happen
am I a forgotten dream,
or are you waiting for me too?

dreams, so many dreams
overflowing with them

will I reach them,
or will I have to forget them?

each day, an ache that never ends
but when —
when will it be enough?

time.
time is cruel for a dreamer.

and what am I
if not a dreamer?

a dream
or a dreamer

I guess I’ll know someday,
but not today.

time, time is cruel for a dreamer
sometimes too slow
sometimes too fast
a never-ending agony

dreams,
so many dreams

some forgotten...
just like me

and yet —
I keep dreaming.

I dream in shadowed memories,
I sing of cosmic love,
And whisper gothic reveries
That haunt the stars above.
I drift on wind’s lamenting tread,
Through veils of distant time,
Where echoes of the long-since dead
Chant elegies in rhyme.
I’ve danced where Saturn’s rings divide,
And walked the comet’s wake,
I’ve watched the moon in silence hide,
And dreamed for dreaming’s sake.
©️2025 David Cornetta

My Debut collection If Saturn Should Fall
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Graceful sway of her long, elegant fingers,
The hypnotic smile of her sweet face lingers.
Her favorite songs are burned into my brain—
An addiction so strong, it drives me insane.
“That’s not very poetic,” the bird laughs.
“Truths are more often than not chaotic,” I say.

Then the bird takes a leap, and up she goes.
I chase after her, for she has given me hope.
I realize that it’s selfish, that it’s scary,
But it’s also just part of being human.

She’s an artist stuck in a spiral of despair,
The fallen angel sleeps in her lonely hair.
I pray to God, “Please let me be there.”
Even if for a fleeting moment,
Let me be what her bleeding soul requires.

The morning sun takes away my breath;
The freezing cold brings it back.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” the bird flies past me.
“If that’s what it takes to make you laugh again.”

I took refuge in her voice; the warmth kept me safe.
“A step towards nirvana,” I said.
“You don’t sound very convincing,” the bird chuckled.
I’d let you have my heart if that’s what it takes to prove my words.

The sun went down, and the moon hid herself,
But I kept chasing after the unknown bird,
Hoping to get another glimpse, to add her presence to my dreams,
Hoping someday she’ll hold me tight and never let go.