It’s late; very late

Poem

It’s late; very late

But I can’t sleep

I lay with my hair

Sprawled overhead

 

My eyes are fixed upon Nothing

My lips are pulsating from Intrigue

Have I been romanced by The stone?

 

I feel like a young school girl

Why am I now dreaming?

Why am I now fantasizing?

Why are these feelings back?

Where did they come from?

Who said they could come back?

They were dead ~ but now

          They are alive

 

I am alive