tom taylor

dreamscape edition

such help as I offered was either refused or
else ineffectual as the air inside my lungs
dried and turned to atoms in the mix between
night and day which seems like such a trip

your face hovered through snapshots in the
book tiny and varied with the place & time
always looking back against my own memory
of who you were no longer who you are at all

still the desire to reach out persists and distance
becomes less a barrier than an unnecessary deal
as the days grow later with more clouds today
than yesterday and the promise of rain in the air