Thursday, October 13, 2011


She returns to me in the quietest moments just before dawn

When the inky blackness of night stains the sky a navy blue

The scent of her hair wakes me from my restless dreams

I reach out, feeling for the soft skin of her arm

Leaning into the phantom tresses

Only to find the bed empty

And my pillow damp with tears


Jennifer said...

Dude- you're a poet too?

Chris said...

I try! Thanks for reading!