An empty place ... an empty mind !

She love him from a distance
and her hands cup
the flame of her longing
as the night draws in.


He is the illusion
that sustains her hopes
fragile as tomorrow
among the soap suds;
clean plates gleam like jewels,
witnesses to the commitment made
so early in the day
when the church was cold.


And when afternoon grows into
evening pretending to be night
she lays the tables
for the lawful wedded husband with
dirt on his hands,
placing her vows
neatly in front of him
between the knives and forks.


Tonight with the day folded up in a 
drawer
she can lie beside the dream
that slips between them
into the empty space in the
middle of the bed...

Many a dreams...