There are nightmares
Too gorgeous for sleep
Which bleed into
Nervous daydreams
My mind will encounter
If wandering
Around those thoughts
I can taste

Like memories
Caught on this tongue
After rainfalls
Made from her teardrops
She sheds off clouds
In my bedroom
Knowing soon
I will open that mouth

To proclaim those lives
Never gone
Before savoring
Beautiful losses
Still showing those reels
Now projected
Behind both eyes
Open wide

Where old films play
Without sounds
But our senses
Trace every moment
Each experience had
Left impressions
Whether smells
Or sickening warmth

Those painful words
Become lines
Over tunes unheard
Missing lyrics
An open wound veils
Beneath crimson
Hiding melodies
Made from their scars

Envisioning pasts
Beyond touch
Such traumatic love
Sweetly torments
During liturgies
Writing these poems
Feeling phantoms
Tug at my pen.

• J. Pigno