Taste of the Dream
by Fabrice Poussin
There was no desire to walk the realm
safe inside the warm prison of the dream.
They partook in the sweet nectar of holidays
slowing sipping the thick substance of a sacred light.
Erring from one room to the next they laughed
making the walls tremble in their absence.
No one recalled a recent encounter with
those lovers of every day’s gentle treats.
Children of a lost era, hand in hand they ventured
brave to the freeing oblivion of a secret night.
But in the death of frigid winters an aura
similar to a newborn sun hovered in the halls.
A poison to the living, a potion to children
they pursued their journey alone in the void.
alive beneath the thin silk she seemed to vanish
delighting in the sublimation of her flesh.
Her companion caught her remains in the cup of his palms
to bear them closer to the beating of his chest.
They had drunk the miraculous tenderness of the air
to die only in a fantasy to unlock infinite gates.
To the living they were but haunting ghosts
behind doomed walls overcome by the Earth.
Yet they went on with their wondrous fancies
to never again encounter the sufferings of the mobs.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, The San Pedro River Review, as well as other publications.
