in the middle of the night
awake
a film of sweat covers my limbs.
hugs the line of hair on my neck, curls tangled together
i remember my dream.
the mess of blankets and intertwined limbs.
of wants.
desire.
needs.
Of hands and fingers laced and gripped
tight
holding together as a breath slips between lips.
between us.
i close my eyes, wish away the feelings
dredged up from the forgotten vault of my heart.
and sleep returns.
i wake in the early morn,
bells ringing. sun rising.
dreams still on the tip of my tongue.
i taste them.
i see them
waiting
as i brush my teeth,
while i pack our lunches.
i’m distracted by their presence.
their dark soft colors.
the moans and sighs.
deeply.
driving my morning commute
they sit beside me
riding along.
all day i remember.
the tides of the past
flooding,
taunting,
shadows of what was.
of what is no longer.
i can’t tell if I want to remember these things.
if i want to sit back and enjoy the past
or if i want to push them under the rug.
to chew a sprig of parsley
to cleanse
rid me of these
memories.
to drink of a cup of tea
warm and purifying
and wash away the feelings of
remorse
regret.
lust…
and yet, there they sit
in the corners of my mind.
fresh.
distracting.
present throughout my day.
these memories of the flesh
passion embodied.
One For Hope 