Damn the Day

I dreamt you
crawling through the cream
of my bare skin, your fingers,
matches scraping, setting
blazes. Hot, I sought
water in your throat, found
the syringe of your tongue
stealing air, fueling fire.
I slept on, hours after
daylight nagged, I pushed it,
held you under my eyes.
You faded under noon's sun,
pushed me away,
left me aching and bare
to face a lonely day,
head throbbing of too much
sleep, longing for night.

by Christine L. Reed

Christine is the editor of the print magazine, Maelstrom, the poetry editor of Moondance and a contributing editor for The Cortland Review, an online literary magazine in RealAudio. She lives in Tranquility, NJ with her two and a half beautiful children and her work has appeared internationally in literary magazines, anthologies and web venues including Zuzu's Petals, Conspire, Recursive Angel, Niederngasse(Swiss), Kimera and Isosceles among others.