I’m like a magician

I steal your dreams and smiles

And fill my pockets with them

To bring it home

And fall asleep

With them hidden under my pillow

Don’t ask me

What am I going to do

When you leave me

Ask me

What am I going to do

If you are never going to come back

Can’t you see my thirst

When you look into my eyes?

Don’t you know my dreams

When I fall asleep with my head on your shoulder?

I want to bribe the time

To make moments last longer

And make the days taste sweeter

It doesn’t matter you can’t be mine

It matters how many times you were there

Just for me…

I’m like a pot

I let you drink delight from

Until you get dizzy and faint.


6 thoughts on “Ambrosia

  1. autumn misery
    (the master sings to margarita)

    “…Tu mourras quand l’ouragan soufflera dans les roserais…”
    -Guillaume Apollinaire

    is not this the bench where we never sat
    the place you did not give your hart to mine
    the undiscovered moment of glory
    a vendage lacking sun not excessive rain
    are not these trees faerie skeletons that
    standing do not recall singing sublime
    applause leaving some tragic love story
    a vendage lacking much laughter but not pain
    do not these leaves not unleaving combat
    the longing to not recall that divine
    compassion ends as it begins lonely
    a vendage not lacking misery nor chains
    is not this the pathless path our love mist
    a vendage lacking dreams in which two harts kist
    mark emmanuel christopher valentine
    (© 04 november 2012 –

  2. Pingback: The Perfect Dream – A Sleepy Romantic Monday Post | Edward Hotspur

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