Surfing through my dreams

When I wake
blurred from scent of fresh squeezed pineapple
aroma of eastern sun on purple orchid
spray of salt from coral ocean
the cry of gold winged eagle
high on skin smooth palm,
I know you’ve been,

surfing nonchalant through my dreams .

Memory cuts
like broken glass hid deep beneath
that sun bronzed sand
although I’ve tried to pumice deadened cells
forget , obedient as you’ve begged me to,
I can’t .

When I wake
London’s greyness collars me
I retie blistered skeins of sleep
recapture tone of voice , warmth of well loved body’s heat
angle of your down kissed cheek
steady breath you gave to me ;

other lovers come and go
bring comfort existentially
enrapture second hand your touch and tone ,
dupe this fool of body , calm the longing of my soul .

When I wake
reliving air conditioning’s drone
simple slap of rope thonged feet
steam of fresh tossed prawns
that sunlit path through mangrove trees,
why gift me this then turn to leave

when my heart had found it’s home ?

Here I lie
wrapped in tangled truth stained sheets ,
your pillow crisp , each pleat complete
as if you’d never been :
my crescent moon in unguent sea
the hand that fit too perfectly ;

now all the future holds for me
through the untwined rope of eternity
is my nightly game of hide and seek
to catch you surfing through my dreams . .

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