Sometimes
in the early hours of the morning
I wonder why
I feel so much
in return for so little.
We led each other
on a merry dance
but now the music’s stopped
the players have all gone
and all that remains
are you and I
a breath apart
exposed, unsure
unwilling
to let the last residue
of our wonderland
evaporate
in the morning sun.
We talk of boundaries
of being clear
but still the mist
muffles our senses
and the line is crossed
despite our best intentions.
What I want to say
is so simple
but the web of words we weave
tangles with my thoughts
complicating every action
muzzling those three words
that haunt us night and day.
Then in the distance
I hear the faint strains
of our favourite song
drifting on a sea breeze
towards my heart.
And so once more
I fall into your embrace, as
the dance begins again.
© Sally McLean 1997
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