Dreaming of Love by Dustin Pickering

The past remains present,

glowing in the mind’s shroud:

            dense and yet dying.

Its light escapes over a branch;

the mighty night overcomes

            my passion, drawn in pretext.

Lips kiss the dawn, offering

a place for love.

However, the silent echo will remain.

I hear within these walls

a face, motionless

and whispering—

I begin to dream again

of love.