double-e incumming

it is at moments after i have dreamed,
the fading twilight of a mind unchained,
that i picture you most clearly amid the swirling,
phosphorescent mist that clouds my sight.

an existence of pure oblivion has its door opened
to the searing light of the dawn, making my retinas
moan in painful protest. but your hazy face
soothes me, unwillingly, as readily as it makes me a fool.

a flicker of movement from the curtains, lets in
rays of light, and fleeting visions of a petite feminine form
tribute to your presence, and the hotels you always adored
when you wrote of her, and never of me.

it is at these moments, before the dreary banality
of a world locked into a mechanistic, masochistic dance
sets in, that i feel most like the self i used to know
before i remembered dreaming at all.