Only Mine
Grasping.
Always grasping.
In that moment
between sleep and wake
I grasp,
I hold tight,
and I hope to never let go.
Though the images vanish,
the ideas are bastardized
with senseless words
that cannot describe,
it is still mine.
The secret kisses,
the flushed faces,
that dizzying feeling
of first
forbidden
love
that is for once
possible.
And your porcelain face
the baby one
that was so pink with
excitement
hidden by that red wig
and that tux you wore
so convincingly
will always,
always
be mine.
Only mine.
Always grasping.
In that moment
between sleep and wake
I grasp,
I hold tight,
and I hope to never let go.
Though the images vanish,
the ideas are bastardized
with senseless words
that cannot describe,
it is still mine.
The secret kisses,
the flushed faces,
that dizzying feeling
of first
forbidden
love
that is for once
possible.
And your porcelain face
the baby one
that was so pink with
excitement
hidden by that red wig
and that tux you wore
so convincingly
will always,
always
be mine.
Only mine.