Last Vision

What if tomorrow
Was my last day
On this earth?

All behind me…

Complete.

What would I want
My final memory to be?

What vision,
What painting
Would I long for
In my mind’s eye?

What would I cling to,
As if that vision
Defined everything
Important to my life?

Just you,
My love…

Sleeping,

There,

Silent,

Safe.

Watching the slow
Rise and fall of your chest,
The warmth of your breath
Flowing through you,

Setting a cadence,
Not just for your being,

But a beautiful rhythm
For my night time dreams,
Lying next to you,
In the sanctum of our bed.

And, seeing the sensuous curves
Of your graceful,
Elegant body,
Halfway hidden by the sheets,
My fingers pleading to touch.

To make the vision complete,

Just a gathering in my eyes
Of the waves of your curl,
Even in the stillness of your sleep,
Spilling around
And framing
The beauty of your face.

That’s all I need,
And ever dream of…

My last vision
To be you,
In your elegant quiet,
In your soulful sleep,

In your perfect peace.

Enough for my now.

Enough for my forever.

Β© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

31 thoughts on “Last Vision

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