Reminders of you in every corner...

I keep dreaming of my ex lover. Fading between glimpses of memories buried in images, scents that tug me to long for the warmth of safety. Companionship improperly mixed with forgiveness, wrapped in loving arms and sealed with a kiss.

The dust is settling and my bed is warm from wine.

Crusted on the edge of my mind is the fleeting reminder that I'm missing something. A sense of being, non-specific to anyone except perhaps myself. Take two and keep waking up in the morning, only it's still not working. Touching myself is becoming a cycle. Spiral motion spinning predictable, dradle drade dradle...orgasms escape me even in my solitude.

Maybe I'm tired of being alone. Confident as I stride, cravings for touch leave me sullen.

When sleep comes, all I'm shown is this world of love that exists outside of what I know. Here I stand, emotionally mutable but superficially untouchable...something's telling me I sold out but the audience is a no show.

I'm starting to realize that what I know isn't true anymore. Reminders of you in every corner keep slamming doors, and when one closes, this house just gets taller. Construction's expensive when your heart's locked in a tower. The new staircase is almost finished, waiting to be dusted by it's first foot print.

All I keep hearing is that god damn saxophone echoing through it all. Mental pictures of warnings predicted true. It's not that I want him back either. I just want to have something real.

Whatever that is.