Making Love Inside A Dream

when i go to bed tonight
my arms will be empty

i will be sad like a broken beam
no one repairs me

no one comes to this room to bring
a torch to put the curtains on fire

there is no delight on coldness of
the floors as though there is death on every footstep
that i make

i cannot be defeated
my empty arms shall be filled with my own body

i shall kiss my hands
like they are ten lips in all

i shall perspire like a candle
burning my own light

and then i shall sleep and travel another journey
towards that wish to be with you again

you are there softly treading upon a grass
i shall be there touching your body with my hands

we shall make love
we have no names.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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