I thought of you at 12'o'clock AM.
The salty wisps of water in the air
Reminded me you weren't one of them.
A set of cotton daggers through your hair;
The waning moment, just before you wake,
To find yourself caressed by lover's hands,
Unknown as yet the path you undertake;
Yet love, like time, is passed in falling sands.
I thought of you again as hours flew
And salty wisps of water came to eye.
This moment, I could tell, was made for you;
Behind me, Aphrodite starts to cry.
The key I used to lock the door to Hell:
Denied to you, with all I can not tell. |
Submission Name: Sonnet to Fantasy
