when the sun breaks through the glass,
you're there—next to me—like you said.
the sunrise says, "hello;" this bright-eyed, personified wonder.
your eyelids flutter, flicker like a light and you smile.
my eyes are open but it feels like a dream:
too good to be real,
something i've thought of.
but you're real, solid in my arms;
we go back to sleep—just for an hour.
YOU ARE READING
you are not in wonderland ➵ poems
Poetryan assortment of shitty poetry i write gratuitously in my free time.
