poem_a_late_afternoon.knit

A Late Afternoon Lying on My Back

I want to believe
the curtain blocking out the day
is like a palm tree casting diamond shade.

The weight of blanket on my upturned toes
is like some beach sand warm beneath my feet.

But if I am honest,
the curtain blocking out the day
is not a palm tree casting diamond shade.

The weight of blanket on my upturned toes
is not the beach sand warm beneath my feet.

The heartbeat pulsing flushes in my ears
is not the rhythmic surf upon the shore.

The forced air hissing through the vent
is not the sea breeze kiss caressing skin.

The floaters in my vitreous eyes
are not the sea birds hovering in time.

The vacant half of mattress at my side
is not your towel waiting while you swim.

Notes: Just a love poem.