I completely believe in the vision
of my Queen. Closed eyes can’t play tricks on you.
I find myself in stunning submission
to a love I’ve never touched. My clear view
becomes opaque; my love is in situ,
when I look with open eyes. The contrast
in view is disillusionment. I argue
with the inescapable truth; dreams don’t last.
When harsh morning comes, I’m roughly cast
from her. My waking life is defined
by seeing the loss of love surpass
the loss of innocence. What I find
left is the desire to keep the dream
as I lie in an unwelcome sunbeam.
Follow Marjorie Jensen on Twitter @MetaphorJunkie.