Within a dream

Who can enclose the words?

The inner thoughts that go coursing

through your veins?

His touch was so soft  at times

I felt as though it could heal any wound.

As though I was

looking at a lake

reflected in the waiting sky,

full of open roses.

Look how they lie, I thought.

So still,

so silent,

If a strong breeze came,

it would scatter them

to the four winds.

I wondered if they would keep their shape,

if their scent would float through

the air

and land

gently on my skin.

Suddenly,

then,

it was as if this last week had not really happened,

and summer became a room,

a room

within a dream