A Dream

I think I conjured you up in a dream

For what else could be construed of so brief an encounter.

Like fireworks in the starless night sky

You shone brightest.


And disappeared without warning.

Like you tired of my neediness.

And constant scrutiny.

And pallid ordinariness.

When I awoke the only evidence of your having been

Were my hands

Charred where I wouldn’t let go of you.

It must have been a dream.

Luminous and Beautiful.

But Cruel.

Much too cruel.


In love with a Phantom

Is it really possible to miss someone you haven’t even met? 
Like a specter of a person you want to be with ?
Are lonely people lonely because they have been left alone by the people they know? Or because they aren’t with that one person they have conjured up in their unsuspecting subconscious?
A phantom of a man or a woman whose image is etched in your mind but you never found? Or at least never found in time.
Someone who touches a chord which makes all the difference between a beautiful piece of music and a haunting soul-stirring mesmerizing one? A piece of music where you close your eyes and feel yourself levitate.
Someone who understands precisely what you want. Someone who knows what you need even when you don’t voice it. Or better still – someone who knows what you need even when YOU don’t know it yet.
A person who you may not recognize if you passed on the street. 
A person you feel nostalgic about – although nostalgia is to be felt about things you have experienced.
It is not somebody you know. It is not somebody you have met. It is an idea maybe. An ideal perhaps no one can live up to and hopefully no one will have to. 
It is a one sided love affair with an abstract painting. 
Some days the image is in black and white and fuzzy around the edges. Some days it is in bright technicolor with fluorescent hemming.  
But most days – that image is in the colors of your most fervent, most impassioned dream.