spectres of love past...

“the day begins at nightfall”

do You remember how I looked at dawn?
You thought I was young and beautiful
but i lay weary in my bed.
You looked at my face like a child gazing into windows
i just stared into the new sun and smiled to be near You.
You dodged in between the spots in my eyes
and You kissed me
You wrapped me up in dawn.
and You loved like i was young,
moving to the beating of my nervous heart,
a terrified tattoo while my eyes tracked
the swaying of Your hips.
the brush of Your hand and hair.
You thought me to be young
but i am already old.
how could You see me at dawn
when the day begins at nightfall?
the sun, like a teardrop, fell.
i dreamed a softer dream that night . . .
A softer dream
that night.

The Philolexian Society
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