You were my greatest dream.
I chose to be
Love’s
sleepwalker, and see only what kept
My hopes alive, not the dead certainty
That it would not work out. And so I slept
In the warm double bed of a sweet lie,
And I convinced
myself our love was true—
That intimacy was our battle cry
And love a fête we
were both party to.
If it’s one thing that I do well, it’s see
Just what I want
to see. And when I woke,
I woke up broken—not by you; by me—
And looked at who I was and saw a joke.
Love still may
send me someone to adore.
I wouldn’t
know. I don’t dream any more.
Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells
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