This Prison

I wake to a blue and yellow pastel dawn
Chalked with white clouds
And I know I dreamt about you again.
Your ghost remains twisted
In the beige bed sheets grinning at me
with a red smile of embarrassment.
I feel your breath on my cheek
Like a blush from spontaneous laughter.
I am left in awe of how night after night
You crawl through the coils of my ear
To whisper memories of us in a field
Of roaring dandelions where inked power lines
Sliced the sky and aeroplanes
With their sky-high egos made smoky kisses
on the sunset.
I would search your shoulder blades for wings.
I remember the wind rudely tearing
The emerald kite from my hands
And you chased after it, arms raised in submission.
But It was too late.
The kite joined the cherry air balloons
Hovering high above.
My eyes rest on your last letter,
Slumbering on my desk.
Asking me to fly away with you.