Skip to main content

Once in a Dream

You've told me many times before
that we're nothing but "just-friends" anymore
But I dreamt of you last night,
and it was the sweetest thing I've ever seen.
We were running from someone,
arm in arm.
He was after you, your beauty, your virtue, your love,
but you couldn't surrender it,
not to him anyway.
And so there I was, just a friend.
But I loved you anyway and there we were.
He called out to you and we ducked under an outcropping,
thick in the fog.
We were pressed against each other,
keeping from his sight,
trying our hardest to stay quiet.
And I could feel your heart beating so close to mine
that your "just-friend" just had to do something about it.
Softly, on your lips I kissed you,
knowing full well that I shouldn't have.
But you kissed back and for five brief seconds
I was in bliss.
But it was all just an impossible dream.

I woke up and could still feel your lips on mine,
and it broke my heart when I realized
my dream might never come true.

Comments

Anna Russell said…
Aww, so sad! A departure from your usual style - this has a much more modern feel to it. And it works. Really good to see different styles from you.
Sweet and tragic, and a very nice finish.
A poignant dream
leaves me melancholy
but without regret.

Thanks!
Unknown said…
awww...absolutely lovely!

____________________________________

Stationery Magazine

Popular posts from this blog

The Missed Opportunities of Days Gone By

“Hello?” I said into the phone, accepting the call from a number I didn’t recognize. “Hey,” the feminine voice on the other replied, as though I should know the sound of her voice. At a loss, I said, “Can I help you?” “It’s Brooke.” Her name stopped me. It couldn’t possibly be her. We hadn’t spoken in years, a decade perhaps. “Brooke?” “Yeah, Brooke Baker. This is Mark, right?” Jesus Christ. It was her. “Yeah, it is Mark. Brooke. Wow. How are you? It’s been a long time since… well… since anything.” “I know.” “So, how are you doing?” “Okay, I suppose…” Her voice belied her words, though. Something was up. “I… It’s just been so long and I guess I wanted to hear your voice.” “I don’t think I had a number for you. Ever. I offered a couple of times, but…” “I was a brat back then.” And that’s how a random phone call turned into a two-and-a-half hour catch-up session. We spoke of everything under the sun: people we still knew, how different we were, h

Anatomy of a Scene: The Third Man

It's time again to break down a classic scene. One that's well-written and, in my view, a fine example of excellent craft. I've done some of these articles from books (like The End of the Affair   and Starship Troopers ) and other movies (like Citizen Kane , City Lights , Raiders of the Lost Ark , and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid ), but now it's time to take a look at a scene from The Third Man . It blends the best of Orson Welles (as he's in the film and drives this scene) and Graham Greene, who wrote this particular screenplay. Before we get to the scene, we need some context. The Third Man is a tale of the black market in Vienna, just after World War II. It's about a cheap, dime-store Western novelist named Holly Martins (played by Joseph Cotton) and his friend Harry Lime (Orson Welles.) Lime offered Martins a job in Vienna, so Martins leaves America and arrives, only to find that Harry Lime is dead. Penniless, without a friend or reason to be

The End of an Era and a New Beginning

It's been a long time coming, but I think an upgrade to my web presence was long overdue. I began this blog in 2005 and it's served me well over the last 13 years. My goal in those early days was to write a short story every month. Back then, that was the only writing I was doing. This website, then called "Bryan's Short Story Corner," got me into a regular writing habit. One that I still maintain today. I hoped it would help me get eyeballs on my words and, looking back at some of those early short stories, I shouldn't have wanted any of those eyeballs looking. Today, my Patreon fills that void. There is a dedicated group of supporters there that help subsidize my ability to write short stories on the regular. After I started publishing books, this blog morphed into a place to talk about my projects and writing and it worked well enough for that for a long time. But now I have Twitter and Medium for those functions and they have much cleaner and easi