Dream of Home
Sleep comes in buckets lately, to negate the days away from home.
Home is where your hairy forearms guarded the small of my back.
Back when we were teens, this was easy, as laughter surrounded our hearts.
Hearts can be unraveled and respun into wool or gold.
Yours is the latter, mine is the former, for now...
Now, that could change, because the status quo is leaving.
Leaving was the last thing either of us had anticipated.
Anticipated kisses are the worst when expectations aren't returned.
If only you had returned that Saturday evening.
Evening is dark, and sparks between us where as lightning.
Lightning seldom strikes people, but cars sometimes do.
Do you look down upon me from heaven, and still regard our past?
The past skips past warnings and stop signs.
Signs remind us to slow down and prepare for the worst.
The worst was what we promised "for better or for..."
For worse was irrelevant, forever I thought, forever for sure.
Surely moments end, but eventually lead to forever.
Forever will come someday, when we meet again.
Again we'll embrace; again we'll laugh and hold hands.
Hands and dreams will interlock, and again I sleep and dream of our home.
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