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Brushstrokes
November 27, 2018
In my nights of solitude,
I see you,
And I remember
You and him.
One face to inspire
My fantasies,
Two faces that dash
Them, without hope.
In my fantasies, my dreams
You and I are brushstrokes,
Nude but not naked,
Because in the light of our
Flesh,
We carry no shame into the
Dark night.
We are two brushstrokes
Dancing in strands of horse
Hair, that dream horse
Neruda fashioned out of the
Mist of a dreaming brook.
© Marina L., Orlando, FL
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