Far Away

The world is falling asleep

and in my room there’s still light

reflected beyond the mist of old mirrors.

Shapes of all the beautiful

things that remind me of you

are 3D dreams, kept under my

pillow.

Why am I so far away from you,

detached and cold,

like a ghost day dreaming in a tomb?

I wish I could’ve written something more

meaningful like:

your eyes were moons in a hidden paradise,

or your touch on my skin had the strength

of spider webs.

But my thoughts are running out,

I can’t write and grieve at the same time.

Being so far away from you,

and lost in emptiness,

keeps me quiet, makes me sit and wait

for the same rainbow feelings to come back,

feelings that now numb my skin,

for the heart to pump like crazy

and the senses to burn a field of summer.

But the sun comes up

and the world goes dull again,

and I carry on

far away from you.

Anne Watts