dreams pitter-patter soft footprints
across a subconscious memory
following bread crumbs of hope-
half-asleep nuances,
unconscious smiles,
your arms wrapped around me tight:
don't go-
sleep close
where I can feel your soft breath above my head,
where your heartbeat keeps me warm-
that instant of contentment before I run,
scared and unsure
afraid of taking that last step,
of your reaction,
of completion.
it is ironic that when you are near,
my instinct is to run away from your embrace,
yet it is all I yearn for once you have gone away.
is one more year too much to ask,
to tack onto the one that is almost past?
Is forever too much to hope for,
my future swaying on a pendulum
set in motion by out-of-context words
that you dropped carelessly
into the waiting silence
between us
heightened by anticipation and weighed down
by desire
cement shoes settle in the depths of my being
only to be set free in
childish dreams.