Interference

wake up late
rise slowly
and step to
solid ground
grey carpets, piles of clothes.
no more--luxury linens or peeled grapes.
you, with your soft gaze
and earnest touch,
only permitted
in Neverland.
Presently, a slim chance,
all a very unlikely probability,
defying every risk assessment--
exists, just barely.
Possibility.
The ultimate hopeful word,
and the seizing of it leads
to a much worse outcome:
Disappointment.
You tell me which it will be.
Truth is: you never left my
unconscious thought.
Sneaking into dreams
and drifting mind days.
I want to say--
so much.
But I swallow the words,
pushing you back to illusion
and clinging to the inevitability
of disappointment.
All I ask is that you let it sink in.
No more interference.