I dreamed
	Last night
	Of kissing you—
	And the
	Morning sun
	Shines a little brighter,
	The frigid air
	Feels a little warmer.
	How might be
	The day,
	If I could
	Really kiss you,
	Instead of 
	Feeling just
	The warmth
	Of memory
	Fade into
	Nothingness?

1/19/97

© Fred O'Bryant. All rights reserved.

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