when will i see your smile,

near me,

feeling your warm breath against mine,

when will i feel your touch,

beside me,

peppering your kisses with saffron whispers,

when will i hear you,

your lips against mine,

cajoling me, again,

to wait,


a little


while i whisper back,

knowing the hunger,

to remain stronger,

painting on the smile,

of the mirthful dream-monger,

while keeping at bay,

the raging cauldron


within my being entire,

sizzling, scorching me to the marrow,

the unsaid charade,

theatre for the conscience,

played out,

and in,

just beneath the veneer,

of dreams,

of you,

cascading through,

seducing the fabric of our shared time,

so clear,

crytallised, pristine,


yet, yet,



sheer …