A Dream

For almost a moment, my head careens

my heart flutters,

my legs lean.

But I open my eyes: it was only a dream.


Not even a dream; perhaps a wish

a touch in the dark,

a lipless kiss.


For a moment my hands caress a hope

of having the love of sweet loneliness

instead of the hatred of company.

How many years will it take to find?

Perhaps it is not something to keep

but is only found here,

Between the sheets of waking

and sleep.

And how was I to know 

that the only way to love

is to learn loneliness by heart and soul?

This poem is about: 


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