Dearest,

How long has it been,

since we have held

our relationship

in the proverbial

setting sun?

Do you still dream?

Do you still want to paint

a portrait of you and me;

in white against the

clouds in a run?

You are not a lost love.

Nor a fairy tale of yore

of "once upon a time".

You are my present,

My future undone.

But, how long has it been

since you held this

in the light of day?

And watched the prism

reflect the moonbeam?

Do you still believe?

Do you still want to try

to weave a dream for me?

Do you still get drenched

in the April rain?

“Is this a poem, beloved?”

~ You will ask.

No, This is the cry

Of a cursed soul

Salted pain on paper.

I am looking for a blotting paper

Do you use it?

Or, perhaps you don’t need

To correct whorls of words

On writing paper.

***

I watched you that day

Pacing in the rain

My cheeks were wet

But I held an umbrella

To the camouflaged sun.