You mocked me in my dream

               
You mocked me in my dream, but how did you know
that, tired from this torture sure and slow -
my body’s tyranny, I chose my friends’ advice
and with corrupted conscience paid the price?

Well-meaning guidance: finally the penny
has dropped that you are only a dream.
I thought: why couldn’t I - like many -
appease my hunger, my internal scream

in what’s available? To whom it causes harm,
if I submit to earthly circumstances
to flee perturbing me your fatal charm
and ambiguity of troubling me glances?

What’s wrong, ignoring fantasy that blinds,
seek solace in obtainable at hand?
When nothing holds us together, nothing binds,
and when you can’t be more than just a sparkling sand

between my fingers, when you are a whim
of my imagination, why have I remorse?
Perhaps, because reality looks grim,
when finally my dream has lost its course

in the caresses of a man who isn’t you,
you, my escape and my forbidden fruit,
and now, like the grass that sparkled once with dew,
I’m feeling trampled by a muddy boot.

21 December 2010