when the cold has weakened my body
and the fever has confused my mind
will there be something
that i retain?
will there be something
that i remember?
the way your hair was falling down
the way your eyelids opened up
the way you spoke my name
and the silence so filled with sound
the speechlessness
that said too much
and thoughts so loud
they were betraying me
will i think of you
and of me
and of what i remember now
of what i miss
what i yearn
or will i think
that nothing really happened
that i imagined my life
and you
and happiness
that all these precise memories
these facts, these observations
came from an
ever-repeating dream?
YOU ARE READING
SKIES (poetry)
PoetryA short but growing collection of my poems. I write for myself, to deal with my environment, to capture my thoughts, to tell and retell stories I live or dream. There is no specific genre of poetry I will commit to, there will be reflections on the...
