(xvii)

In a surreal tapestry of gossamer silk and sunbeams,
I have etched the beautiful contours of your face.

The somnolent eyes,
drooping as if a lotus-eater had sprayed the Sandman’s opiate into them,
the juxtaposed limbs heavy-wrought and listless

….you are a dream,

you are the rainbow fantasy in speckled and gold-flaked dust,
shimmering on heaven’s stairways
and bright-punctured like a lover’s acid sighs on the firmament.

You are the elusive
an ever out-of-reach mirage-evanescence
that quill-wielders speak in hushed awe-filled tones.

You are my fantasy,
my deliverance of sleepless nights

….and somehow, their reason too!!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.