I thought I could remember
a dream in which we chased
shallow imitations of each other,
afraid to say "wait," and discover
your mockup ambled a touch too loosely-
you never told me I strut so stiffly-
what have I said in my sleep?
If you would have dropped hunting shadows
of me, perhaps, I thought,
when I awoke, my languid fingers
would have smoothed your shivers alive,
and my knee would, before parting
your petal-thighs, linger in the moist cross
where each springy lobe of rear curls
to where your heat evolves into passion.
Instead I ran aground on reality
with a sickening lurch: the dream
I remembered, I had lived, awake,
and so, that night, your thighs would part
so only in dreams.
by Jason Paul Fox
illusration and web page by JASON PAUL FOX
You MUST credit my authorship when reproducing this poem in any way!
(It's OK to give my poem to friends or people at school, if you credit me and don't make money off it)
2007 Jason Paul Fox