You Are Here

This morning, at the edge of waking up came a vision of you, and it was so fragile, already breaking, and I kept wanting truth, so I lied, taking denial and creating love, and forcing passion inside the skull and bones, of self, alone, to realize that dreams could take place of life, and improvize, unwanted memories, with fantastic visions of you Here, going out with me to try on, those pretty little dresses, and the yellow raincoat you looked ridiculous in, and that little laugh you made when you saw me cracking up, and then we were breaking up and the pain was so unbearable, for an old man at his last love, at the last breaking of that fading sunset heart, as every night I remember, I can't ever have you together, only at dawn, in pieces, and it's not even real, but a fading photograph of you is better than nothing at all, and I still cling, and I still hurt but I still have those made up memories to keep me alive at night.