Thinking of You

Do you think of me at dawn,

When you arise, first light tingeing the rooftops

A rosy gold?

Do you dream of me at dusk,

The first of those septentrional stars

Shining bright in the blanket of the newly minted night?

Do you wake from dreams of me

In the still and quiet of the early hours,

A bittersweet melody playing itself out

Once more across the canvas of your skin?

Do you remember me as I remember you,

Indelible ink forever spilt across my midnight musings?


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A poet driven by the quill, a dreamer of impossible dreams, a lover of that which the world has deemed unlovable. We're all stories in the end. This is mine.

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