Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Bryan's Poem and Reading

An Afternoon in Bed


The sunlight beams through  

its radiant glow glistens upon her face.

Venetian blinds 

create horizontal geography 

on the canvas that is her body. 

She does not wake

 or even stir.

You don’t dare disrupt this   

tranquil scene. 

This is how you always dreamt it would be.


You watch and study her dormant slumber

in amazement of how anything you ever

imagined could be this perfect.


But it is only for now. 

You think of a fleeting moment.  

 A lowering sun;

light turning to dark. 

 Night always giving way to morning (Oh how you loathe that). 

You will wake up;

she will be gone.

 A cold imprint on the pillow next to you

 becomes your last burning memory of her. 

This is how you always dreamt it would be.




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