" love handles "

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do you remember me there, then?

we spent some time
listening to acoustic renditions of early bob marley songs
while sitting in a room
lit by the soft morning's light of a new day.

sweet mornings renewal blooms fresh smells
which surround and encapsulate us
in it's bright arms.

the look in your eyes brings me to a shattered state of happiness
which duplicates in the ebb of each moments tide,
which washes over me and renders me in a state
of constant blisses.

this is what i miss.

holding you, my non-existant girl,
by the back and encircling your waist
with my rough hands;
the smells of jasmine and morning
aloft on the great stillness of your being.

there is something about the way you are not even real,
that pulls me back into reality.
the state of being much like that of

a small island,

a white teacup with the brims freshly wiped clean,
an amoeba riding the current of matter;
its microscopic flotilla of arms seeking anyone or anything.

but there is time yet
to find you,
or me to be found.

so until then,
i will have dreams of

examining your fingernails with my poor eyesight;
close-up and intimate,
like the way trees meet the earth
at the roots.

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