Reccuring Dream Poem by Medusa Waves

Reccuring Dream



it happened like a reccuring dream
picking faces of what might have been
faces of clocks with old hands and sorry numbers
faces of cold days in quick novembers
faces of wood blocks with pointed corners
that there have been a mourner
weeping by a tree
holding what seemed to be
a beauty like that of psyche
he turned and looked at me
his face twisted in agony
weakly pointing 'there she be! '
fear poured on me like cold water
i tried to run in numbing feet
but my legs did not fleet
as we met face to face
our lips seperated by little space
dared he be to kiss me
quick i woke from my dream

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