On her wrist, rests a sample of her Dreams
while the Sun rises from her heart
but she doesn’t know who she is
Two, hovering, white Doves beckon to her
A taste of yearning brushes against her lips
causing her to wonder how
she can keep breathing
for the rest of her life
Heartspell 
Reblogged this on The Scribbler and commented:
I just love these lines because I see a poet – a man – describing his one true source of distraction in a way that can only be called Happiness!
The convey such deep sadness with where one is in there life…well penned.