Wake up early.
Think of past failures.
Look down then up.
Time to go hunting
Antelope across the swampland
Of your heart.
I sit and wait
As you wildly prance on by.
I am unarmed but for a bottle of wine
And a smile.
Your memory is with me
though you lay there smiling in dream.
I smell of the meal you cooked.
It is here, in the air, though it is long gone.
The sound of the music is in the walls;
Though it is silent but for your whispered breath.
Your sensitive eyes that, last night, looked on
With an invisible humor, are tight and smiling;
I remember those eyes and want them open now
Because they remind me of a home that I never knew.
There is a lovely pleasure in you,
That I do not even recognize;
It is all I can do to not hold you right now.
Though that is not enough.
And I can’t go back;
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