As I lay here
Three, no, four hours away,
I scroll through my matches
In search for you.
But soft!
It is dusk,
The darkness has broken
Over yonder, since I couldn't
Find you.
This shocking revelation has led me
To wonder if it was all just a dream.
Every kiss, every touch, every moment,
That we shared,
Did it really happen?
Memory is a fickle thing,
It is subjective, unreliable, and
Easily doubtable.
Perhaps it was the blood moon,
But I couldn't,wouldn't, deny you that night.
Maybe it's a sign,
A sign that I've lost you,
Lost your interest.
A sign that I shouldn't
Be attracted, so fond of you.
I've been debating,
Toying with the idea of
Seeing you this weekend.
On my terms, not quite in daylight,
But perhaps it's for the best.
In the meantime, I'll savor these memories,
Dreamlike and seemingly surreal though they may be,
In hopes our cross once more.