A Blind Man's Dream

I walk the streets Not for money, but a dream. I stand still, and stare, as your face emerges Through the tiny gaps  Between the falling rain. Not a day goes by and Not a night in my dreams. That I do not reach out to touch your lips, Smiling, effortlessly, So close to mine. Perchance to talk, to whisper words, "I want you to be mine." I want your light to burn bright, In my dreams…