By jovita jovlad@yahoo.com
Date: 7 December 1998

transitions

sometimes a cool air creeps through
the corner of my windowsill and slithers
up from the bottom of my bed to find the 
spot where you used to lay 
your head and lies there
silently,
a quiet reminder of the 
emptiness that occupies your
space.
its so easy for me to
remember you in the 
winter when all the illusions
of summer fade and disappear and reality
assumes their role. the
mirages draw up and 
whither and i am left with
nothing but loneliness to hold
closely at
night.