Never A Surer Thing

A poem...

When am I going to wake from this reverie? 

It's a daydream, I know, 

surer than cold knows snow,  

and I'm afraid by Spring it'll have melted away; 

I'm so damn afraid of something I've yet to see,  

because lately, I know,  

surer than Spring flowers grow,  

that I'm falling more for you every day.  

 

Still, I hold out hope 

as you've burnt your shape 

against my subconscious 

like the light 

behind your eyelids 

after staring at the sun too long; 

there's an impression you make 

when you say you want this 

that makes it feel right 

knowing I've been waiting in bitter silence 

for you all along.  

 

And I worry all night, 

that somehow the fates are conspiring 

to remind me of the things I don't deserve; 

to think that you might 

see something in me worth inquiring 

when I sometimes find that hard to observe. 

 

But I'm swallowing this fear with my morning coffee. 

It's made sweeter, you know,  

not more than you, though, 

by your voice and the love in your eyes; 

and it's almost a new year so I should probably, 

make my resolutions, I know, 

so, surer than I love you, I'll show, 

I want you now and forever by my side.