1/15/21

When a fantasy dies

And the embers’ glow grows faint

The brisk reality raises rough goosebumps

Disrupting smooth surreal possibilities

Loneliness creeps outside fantasy’s door

Welcoming you with a cold embrace and a cruel smile

Envious of those who have artfully weaved fantasy into reality

Intertwine love and independence

Integrate freedom and companionship

With sex and sentiment

Misquoting Shakespeare in my head

With no solace, no imaginary lover to give me relief

I have me, and clarity

It’s nonetheless possible, necessary, and maybe even a little fun

To grant myself some mercy

Sunset the fantasy in fantastical dancing into night

And awake anew at dawn