Last night I dreamed
that you dreamed
that you inscribed a poem about me.
In the dream thine dreaming self
viewed that other you contrive
the poem with great finesse and conviction.
Then it appeared the two of you became
one and thine delectation mushroomed. I was
buoyed above the waters of the Night
and felt billows of euphoria oscillate
across the space of pulchritude sleep. You cessationed
another stanza, for a nanosecond you gazed
Gruntled, then glowered. I knew mine subpoenas.
I congregated a dozen personae of kind grins,
flares of surprise , a muzzle, whispering 'yes'
over and over, and one slothful glance of content.
All these personae nosedived into thine poem,
and you spotted each one where it belonged.
A double portraiture was emanating in the poem,
as you placed thyself next to mine. Souvenirs
returned from ostracism, and adjourned fancies
came alive.
You scribbled the last line. A radiant beam
loitered on thine lips as you devour
the verse from the fantasy.
Simran Jolly
YOU ARE READING
The Bleeding Rose
PoesíaThis book is generally based on a girl who had endured a lot of pangs all through love, obsession, shattered heart and obviously by an adrifted amour. And all these concepts or ideas written by author's vivid imagination and fascinations towards poe...
