Dissasociative

The smoke never lifts
and, in it's hovering, hangs
a chronic meloncholy;

A hollow aching embitters my tone
to pessimistic tendencies. Incessant
yearning turns away my face
from lover's gaze. His quick embrace
and hasty kiss leave me cold
but wishing - I wait for disappointment
to creep between again.

Tenderness goes unsatisfied, eternal -
winter seems to wax and wane
without ever really ceasing; yet
in my heart I can do naught
but hope for sun's bright glow
to pierce the clouds and shun
the lingering fog. And then?
Banished will be the bitter cloud
that blocked the light and
obscured the mind as passion's
light will break with dawn and glow
through sunset, dusk, and night;
no stars will shine, they'll hide their eyes
from burning kisses and tender
touch...they'll, blushing, twinkle in the rhythm
of our breaths and beating hearts...

...My love,
A wind of dreams I blow to you,
a gust to cease the flick'ring light,
to drive away the exhailed clouds and
clear the mind from a lazing
dust. Despondence has no place
in love, nor distance' despair,
nor pain.