In the minutes of early morning
(you are still sleeping, you always are..)
I'm watching you.
In your dreams you dont notice my
attention
to the details of your face.
the way I memorize the lines of your mouth,
or watch the way it twitches with
the dialogue of
your subconcious.

My hands move over you,
yet you dont feel them,
or perhaps in your dreams you do,
but suppose them to be
the ghosts of your imagination,
phantoms.

Perhaps they are.

I never really feel as if I'm here.
I never truly feel like I'm touching you...
I may have imagined myself
and imagined
you,
and so neither of us really feel anything
at all.

09/22/2001

Posted on 09/22/2001
Copyright © 2026 Vikki Owens