Waking up. Alone again.

She’s the first Thought, and the Second.

And the dreams that preceeded.

All is fluid in the limelight morning, and her eyesare all I see.

It’s a dark progression in the draping lightness of my dreams…

And every silhouette is hers.

What would that be like? That sleek perfection of her kiss in the morning.

That total contentness when resting in her arms.

Her smile, the crescent moon setting of my evening..

that makes the tides pour in.

And the tides of sin draw tighter. And Brighter.

When not so innocent lovers dance Like Angels on fire

.Like a failing sun, burning bright into the last days.

The First Thought.

Then the Second.

Tangled in heated imagery, hot and sticky…

All Waiting for the Rain.