Perfect lovers in dreamland

It is you
I dream of
you know


virile, strong
forever
preserved at
28
and prime.


As I don't see me in my dreams
it makes an
odd
kind of sense
as I go on aging
that we are still
perfect lovers
in dreamland.


Even that dream invader,
hazy logic,
can have but one
answer
to that niggling question
of how to
explain you
being back
after so very long away.


That you died was not real.
We were all mistaken.


Only this deepest melt
in arms meant
only for me,
and kissing
your luscious curved
lips is real now.


Solace.  Finally.


But morning comes
once again
with proof that you are
gone.


So I close my eyes
hoping for one more
touch of you
in dreamland.







Beth McCarthy Marks October 2014
for Sam, of course.