I’ll wait until tomorrow,
to slip in bed,
and begin to dream with you.
Maybe even then
it will be too much
the weight of dreaming
alongside my electrical wire
comes with a price.
It’s dangerous now
getting all caught up
when a spark could lead
to an inferno
we keep hidden away.
I’m not exactly sure
just how much love
I’m willing to spend
especially now
the nights are so cold.
We could simply lay there
in a bed of
cologne and perfume,
quietly listening,
to warm hands
finally getting their feel.
I’ll be under the moon
waiting on you
while you wash your hair.
It’s never too late
to come to bed
with wet hair
I suppose.
There’s always room
for a towel
that keeps your head warm.
Come morning I know,
your hair,
will still be all wet.
I’m jealous because
everything you’ve ever done
keeps me in awe
I’ve been this way
since birth.
I’ll wait until tomorrow
to slip in bed
and begin a dream with you,
maybe then,
the cost will have gone down,
dreaming after all
always comes at a price.
3 responses to “Tomorrow I Suppose”
Always. 🙂
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Thank you for your time And attention on the poetry site
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Dreaming comes at a price – Oh, what a thought, Jeffery! I loved this piece. So sensual and poignant.
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