Squinting To Focus
On a momentary sliver of hope,
in the vacuum of a desolate night,
she appears,
in a blazing instant,
a dream perhaps,
a wishful, comforting apparition,
yet she appears.
…
Her breath is warm,
her touch light,
her laughter tender.
She takes my hand,
I hold on,
clinging to the vision,
and,
though she is long gone,
I live the lie, in moments here and there,
and as she blows me her farewell kiss,
I live the lie, I smile,
squinting to focus,
to embrace, to hold on,
to a transient moment,
of long lost bliss
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
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