in the stillness,
in the space between
sleeping and waking,
when shadows are starting
to be chased by
early morning light,
when the cold is
replaced by the crisp,
air of breaking dawn,
pitch black gives way
to orange, and pink
and every other hue
that signals a new day
in the place where
dreaming ends and
reality begins. . .

i love you here

time stops.
for a very short while,
i could pretend
that this won't end,
i could hope that
i may be able to remain
in this moment,
however chaste
however sudden the switching
of moods, from poignant
to forgotten,
i was alone with you
and you were almost mine. . .

i love what i cannot have