spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
When I woke up this morning, I reached over for you. You weren’t there. I sighed and reminded myself that, oh yeah, you were at work, had left a few hours ago. I drifted on the edge of sleep for a few moments before the sinking realization slowing spread like ice across my chest. Wait. You had never been in my bed. You had never been mine at all. Creeping in, sorrow filled me. I squeezed my lids tightly against the morning light. Damn it. I want those dreams back. Those dreams where you are mine. Can’t I just go back to sleep? Did you know, have I confessed, if you asked, I would run to you? I would run far and run fast. I would come to you.
Even so, I will wait for you, my love, as long as it takes, I will wait. And one day, perhaps, you will lift your eyes and see me sitting there on your curb, and perhaps, just maybe, your heart will leap for joy. Your lips will curl just a little or maybe even a lot. And you’ll want me. All of me. Everything I am. Everything I’m not. And when I fall into your arms, you won’t just see a friend, a poet, no you’ll see your friend, your love, your heart, me. And when we pull apart a little and you look into my shining blue eyes, see my absolute love for you, reflecting the knowledge of your love for me, then our lips will crash together, crushing one another, inhaling my love as I breathe in yours. Consumed and raw and completely utterly whole.
Yes, one could dream, right?
Oh let me sleep just a little more! My heart! Oh! Oh, my heart! I long for you. You are all I could have wanted and more. I’ll roll over, let my pillow cradle my dreams, those dreams where I was the one you loved, the one you came home to, the one you held at night. Let darkness come cover me the way I desire for your body to cover my own, a blanket of passion and peace, all mine. But we both know, don’t we, that these are really just dreams.
tara caribou | ©2019
original artwork and the occasional rant
Art Consignments in Ninilchik, Alaska
Apologies for my apologies
Poetry by Charles Joseph
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
Writer and Artist
a collection of short poetry from an autistic mind
Poetry, Photography, and Thoughts
The Lies in the Skies Exposed
"When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am..." --Maya Angelou
Welcome to my tiny corner of the universe filled with poems that I have written.
Author | Freelance Writer | Blogger
livingforthemoon
Butterwell's Blog
beautiful. and inspiring. i was just going to relax. now i have to write.
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Sorry?
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the question mark imparts a decided lack of sorry.
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Or possibly a, should I apologize here? I mean, I’m not gonna lie, it won’t hurt my feelings to read another poem or short story…
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fine
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Geez you are intent on hammering my feelings today aren’t you? This is so moving.
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Just wait until tomorrow’s post. It’s more… vivid.. in its imagery 😉
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Lol I do like it when you talk vivid to me!
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This is a beautiful and poignant poem I really love it.
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Oh! Thank you, Holly! That’s an incredible comment from such an amazing writer as yourself.
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Thank you Tara, your poetry is beautifully moving!
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Thank you. That means the world to me.
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😊
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Spent the morning crying. Gonna go cry some more. That was so bittersweet. Thanks for sharing. Xo
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Love you Empress. Much hugs to you 💕
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Love you too Tara xoxoxo
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But such sweet dreams! A sensitive and passionate piece, Tara.
Finally got hold of Static Dreams btw. A weekend of deep reading awaits!
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Thanks Chris….
And I’m so glad. I think you’ll really like it.
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☺
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Powerful words. Written so well.
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Thank you Mary.
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Beautifully passionate, Tara. Loved it!
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Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.
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You are welcome and, yes, I really did.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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