Linger

Is it too early to embark on a reverie

of longing; dawn envelopes my being,

cradled in silence, bluesy warmth

straddles the grey, shoving, craning

to burst forth?

Does the light streaming in, bounce off

into the abyss of insignificance;

shimmers of sweat dance naked amidst

electrified hairs, truants of vainglory?

Educe fragments of lost memories,

etching transparent silhouettes and

screeches trapped in  perpetuity;

my longings trace the ache of the night.

Do I linger? Linger on and on? Should I

erupt in crashes of turbid desire, awake,

alive; pausing in undulant pulses,

the now reverberating with the next?