The Man of my Dreams

Your face is hidden 
Your arm a barrier between my eyes and yours 
Yours, though, are closed 

A canvas of limbs 
Invading the plan of the floor 
Hands splayed 
Those beautiful hands, whose fingers once 
Delicately seperated the strands of my hair 
Those hands...that used to make it alright 

Here he is 
The man of my dreams 

His mouth slack, unsmiling 
His eyelids selfishly hogging his best assets, green and wide 
In a dream of his own 

But...this time when I shake him 
His eyes don't open, his hands don't reach for me, his mouth doesn't smile 

This time... 

He will never wake...So trembling, I kiss those beautiful hands...for what else can I do?