SHORT STORIES : A Candlelit Room

©1997 Andrew Thompson

Sitting alone in my darkened room, candlelight,
Sandalwood smoke coiling upwards,
Brandy in hand, head full of thoughts,
But no wisdom.

But my lips can't find the right words to say,
To tell you just how I feel,
And I ask myself for the thousandth time,
Why I've fallen so hard this time.

But I don't know, and I can't tell you lies.

But I can tell you that,
The first things that greet my mind when I wake,
Are your precious smile, your sweet lips,
And the touch of your soft skin on mine.

God I wish you were here.

Throughout the day you possess me,
At every turn I see your face,
I try to tell you the way I feel,
But I don't know myself.

So I stay silent.

And as I lay down to sleep tonight,
I can still taste your lips, and feel your touch,
And see your smiling face, nestled against my leg,
In another candlelit room.