Dalliance

A familiar sense of boredom permeates the afternoon laze from sunlight
filtering down through the blinds reaching out with dust moted strands
to tickle at my subconscience. Did I forget what I came in here for or
was there something more? More than whatever I came looking for.
Nonchalance, I pretend to not have dropped into a braindead state of
mindlessness followed by the ghosts of regret, neglect, hardly as
satisfying as anything that substantially sufficient I suspect.

Was I worth the trouble- for all the reasons that made him choose to
become absent from this picture that I hold now close to my heart
or maybe my soul, the echoes of outliving those who fill the spaces
between the furniture and plants, chances of collision coagulating like
my scattered thoughts trying to seperate the memories from the clot
that has become my past torn asunder from the agony that comes from
the silence filling the room, suffering in my self-imposed sense of doom.

Something niggles at the back of my thoughts like a strand of gray hair
turning silver in the breeze that causes a rush through the hall as if to
remind me to stop and then to recall that the feeling of loss drives me
to break from the melancholic daze that pushed me to my beleaguered
feet, now I have returned here in the warm delusions that surround me
with the visions promising the idea that the dreams that were once so
very sweet, like the touch of his hand on my cheek, I am again complete.