...last night
I thought we flew
through a storm
and had been swallowed
I watched both of us
spinning in
between dreams.
athrill with unborn joy,
entranced with
unfelt-touch
I compare
your hazy face
with the picture
on my window...
I grapple with
words swindled with
sighs and ardor
should we fly
to the periphery
of this world
and be racked with
self-reproach?
I wanted more.
But a thought
is just a thought.
Alice Cuenca
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/just-a-thought-32/
