by Gabriella Pharaoh
I close my eyes at night
And the lowering of my screens allows our vignette to play
Projected on my eyelids, I dream of dancing
You and I, utterly faceless, and to music only we can hear.
Face to face, breast to breast.
My hands running through your silken hair,
Down to your hips
And mine, down to my waist.
“Always in a constant length competition,”
You would say, and I would chuckle at the ironic innuendo.
A mirror placed on how we lived
With another placed facing my dreams
It’s a beautiful clear view which duplicates itself into infinitum
Since you left,
My greatest enemy has become the sun.
Each morning, as every individual stream shines adamant
Through each tiny crack between my window’s blinds
The rays violently rip us apart
And hurl me back into this excruciating reality
Actively lacking your smooth skin
And smoother temperament.
Gabriella is an Argentine artist residing in Southern Florida. She has been writing since developing the faculties to hold a crayon. Reading, writing, and dancing are her passions. (A deplorable dancer, however, she believes in the balance required in regards to gifts of the spirit.) Gabriella is currently working towards publishing an anthology of her poetry. She can be contacted here.