I awake, disheveled,
reveling in this place of sleep.
Your quiet face
is the days first image.
Dawn breaks through a curtain
casting you in gold.
Your hair scatters around you,
tousled like spider webs,
in some angelic pattern.
I forget to breathe.
The sun is caught beneath your skin,
as lustrous as a dream.
The entire world is darkness,
but you relieve it,
with all the glory of in between.
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A new client talks attorney Stan Turner into acting as his executor and trustee of his estate if he should die. Stan reluctantly accepts, but when the client is murdered before the ink is dry on the paperwork, Stan realizes he has been set up and mus
In the waning days of World War II, a man lies injured in a London hospital, shrouded in mystery and confusion. He is an American serviceman, stripped of his identity and memories, save for the name John, and plagued by vivid visions of battles that
I love that feeling.
as lustrous as a dream. < < <luv these lines! as well as the entire poem ...