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Cuddle Dream
I've dreamt for the first night of many weeks gone by
and as such to taunt me, it revolved around her.
In a car, on a trip, she happened to be next to me,
stealing one kiss and leaning so close, as if it meant nothing.
We were a group full of friends and acquaintances shared,
and those I hadn't known were so taller than me.
I had come unprepared and unpacked and uncouth,
yet the thought of her there was enough to have drawn me.
And I tried to impress, to remind her of why
she had chosen, elected, to spend so many nights
in these arms of mine, which have grown so much stronger,
and long for her presence to wrap around and bind.
But some times she'd be watching, other times not;
I saw that her eye was drifting towards the others.
So maybe I was settled, a convenience in tow
that she was delighted to have bestowed upon her.
And maybe that was all it was ever to be.
But my dreams are so rare, the window through sleep
so often nailed to the pane and to the frame.
So I can't help but wonder, what tricks of the mind
may plague me if I allow these thoughts to continue.
