Magenta Dream

Water spills into thine lap, 

pouring over into the encompassing gap.

Eyes bend backwards into the casts, 

only to find nothing that lasts. 

Moldings of every shape bind in one, 

leaving one hopeless of no new sun. 

The drapes of great summers day flow, 

only to leave a last little glow. 

You come to me and say, 

only a whisper that will never stay. 

Nothing shall last so often, 

believe me I was there. 

But tell me once more, 

and nothing but a stare. 

You follow me as I follow you, 

and it was then the magenta dream came true.