Poem

The Visitor

We don’t know when we have fallen in love. We don’t even know who we have fallen in love with. Is it always a person or could be something else, some one else.

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Silence prevails as sun goes down the sight

I sit on my table, locking all doors and windows

That ticking of the clock right above my head

And I fall into a deep trance

 

I’m floating over the city scape of perhaps New York

My head is light and motionless

I seen none yet I see everything

I hear none yet I hear everything

That ticking of clock

 

I’m standing in this quiet room

I feel someone breathing

Warm air caressing that back of my neck

Like the warm hands of my lover 

The draping of her hair over my chest

 

Nerves stiffening and emotions running wild

Soft fingers embracing my skin

Swiftly inspecting my entire body

I stand there still, soundless but warm

Like a forlorn lover

 

I open my eyes, Sitting in front of my laptop

The clocking ticking loud above my head

I hear a knock of my door and a flash of warmth

running past me, the same touch, the same eerie touch

What was it

Or rather who?

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2 thoughts on “The Visitor”

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