I awake, with a faint familiar feeling.
I’ve been dreaming of you.
All of my senses are still filled
With your essence.
It’s such an intoxicating feeling
That I lie in bed,
Grasping at every last little shred of you.

I still hear the faint whisper of our voices in my ears.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you, too” the reply.
“I miss you, already. Don’t leave . . . please,” I whisper
as I come to my senses.

I can still feel your arms around my waist,
Your lips pressed to mine.
Your breath on my neck.

I close my eyes so I can see you
Looking into my eyes.
I really need a picture of you.

As the sound of your voice and the feel of your skin leave me,
Your scent still lingers.
It’s not distinct . . . more of a feeling,
The feeling that you are still here . . . just out of sight.


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Copyright �1996 by Carol Hopwood. All rights reserved.
Published in Poetry the Write Way: Webstatic � First Journey (Sept. 2000)
Carol�s biography page