Day 11
Next Morning
She said she’d stay,
but by the light of day,
the bed is cold,
all traces gone.
Had it been a dream,
Were those words,
nothing but a fantasy,
a lovely night imagined?
No, it couldn’t be,
She was real,
Beauty and such perfection,
yet she is gone.
The feel of her touch lingers,
the cravings refuse to yield,
The tangled web is sprung,
She waits for night to fall.
Her promise kept,
no mention of her leaving,
just another embrace,
she grows ever stronger.
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