At What Price, Dreams?

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Some nights, forlorn I lie awake,
To conjure up a phantom man.
My future shrinks, my breast, it aches. I summon him across a span
Of humdrum years, persistent need,
The fairy tale still unknown.
Flights of fancy I conceive, afraid to ever be alone.

The hours pass toward night’s demise,
He waits for me upon the edge
Of ignorance and girlhood sighs, to me, his solid soul a pledge,
A ceaseless source of strength, a core,
A guiding path to trusting trace.
Unfinished heart he would restore, gathered to profound embrace.

And yet at times awash with need,
He’d seek my springtime soft caress.
My body his serenity, a refuge for his weariness.
Unguarded he would come and kneel,
His head to rest upon my knee
Stripped, yet proud, he would reveal his secrets to my custody.

The dawn arrives. I’ve hardly slept,
For his elusive presence burn.
Reality has cruelly come and forced me to again return
To salty hollows, incomplete
Useless wishes, dead-end eyes
Familiar forms of self-deceit, a closet dense with hopeful lies.

His granite face is e’er unclear
Within the throat of clouded want.
In troubled vision I do fear he’ll ne’er be real, my sleep he’ll haunt
Never to be known to me
Never staunchly at my side
Always choked by mystery to, only in my dreams, abide.

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