An Oneiroi

An Oneiroi

In the mist of my waking
wafting about the edge of my vision,
I drift towards the cloud that is my memory

to the figure wrapped within.

Willing myself back into the night

I tumble ever deeper,

to reach what is not there.

Silently I slip softly alongside and

gently caress the her mystery.

Breath ever faster

I strain to see her through the haze.

The almost touch, sensing the fragrance,

the white satin snugged

to reveal the gentle curves beneath

My loins cry out in anticipation

Clear now; white on white, satin on satin.

Hair scattered on her pillow

Her alabaster skin glistening

Back arched and breasts poised beckoning

Hips raised to take me; until

dimming, satin turns to darkness and white to black.

Beauty fades to sameness,

fragrance gone.

Only the dream catcher's memory remains.

jmp102009