One Could Dream

When I woke up this morning, I reached over for you. You weren’t there. I sighed and reminded myself that, oh yeah, you were at work, had left a few hours ago. I drifted on the edge of sleep for a few moments before the sinking realization slowing spread like ice across my chest. Wait. You had never been in my bed. You had never been mine at all. Creeping in, sorrow filled me. I squeezed my lids tightly against the morning light. Damn it. I want those dreams back. Those dreams where you are mine. Can’t I just go back to sleep? Did you know, have I confessed, if you asked, I would run to you? I would run far and run fast. I would come to you.

Even so, I will wait for you, my love, as long as it takes, I will wait. And one day, perhaps, you will lift your eyes and see me sitting there on your curb, and perhaps, just maybe, your heart will leap for joy. Your lips will curl just a little or maybe even a lot. And you’ll want me. All of me. Everything I am. Everything I’m not. And when I fall into your arms, you won’t just see a friend, a poet, no you’ll see your friend, your love, your heart, me. And when we pull apart a little and you look into my shining blue eyes, see my absolute love for you, reflecting the knowledge of your love for me, then our lips will crash together, crushing one another, inhaling my love as I breathe in yours. Consumed and raw and completely utterly whole.

Yes, one could dream, right?

Oh let me sleep just a little more! My heart! Oh! Oh, my heart! I long for you. You are all I could have wanted and more. I’ll roll over, let my pillow cradle my dreams, those dreams where I was the one you loved, the one you came home to, the one you held at night. Let darkness come cover me the way I desire for your body to cover my own, a blanket of passion and peace, all mine. But we both know, don’t we, that these are really just dreams.


tara caribou | ©2019

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