PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In the pictured room, I was dreaming,

That you were talking to me, but I couldn't speak,

I could only think; of your real arms around me.
Itching legs and sweaty brow.
I tried to open my eyes, but felt asleep.

  "The outlines of surface people who lived frozen inside frames,
   Reach down their legs to position footing shaking from lack of circulation.
   Looking back at their reflection greater in width, I lost her presence.
   Walking through objects so that the daytime overlays inside lined edges.
   He walked into the painting and went underwater slowly rising upward with wide eyes

   and dripping hair. He saw her standing in front, she is fully perceptive the way I used

   to be before I walked in this day"

Snow white, brilliant night,

And it burns on.