“Cyra…”
This, I heard her say
yet…
her dew-laden eyelids
and crimson pouting lips
etched their way
into my thoughts,
fogging whatever left
of my memories…
I reached out
to touch her hand
but I was too weak
to even move my fingers…
My thoughts ran wild,
my trembling lips were dry
and then…
I realized
she has already left.
Oh Cyra… Cyra…
(inspired by a dream)
