Saturday, January 12, 2013

The dream

Behind the door the dream held fast,
divided you from me,
and in the darkling, shadowed eyes
was birthed a new-found fear.
The thoughts of you laced creamy flesh,
and quivered in the night,
and yet the bolt was driven fast;
held captive till the light.
There was no way that I could turn,
the handle of my heart,
and open wide to bones of doubt
which held the shape you cast.

Write a poem or short vignette using the picture featured in this post as your inspiration.

1 comment:

  1. Moving..."to bones of doubt" ....creepy good.