you seem an unreachable, lingering thing
like a wisp of dream smoke between that moment of sleep

and awake

that moment when my eyes flutter open to my sea-foam green room
that moment when the last magical specks of dream dust dissolve into the morning light behind my white curtains
when peace breaths for one whole



and I wake
shadows dark like strands of your hair flicker between my curtain’s white folds
just like the Cheshire’s eyes disappear into dim woods
leaving only a snickering smile


more by A. M. LAINE

Photograph by Vladimir Fedotov


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