Delicate Hours Poem by Uriah Hamilton

I dream of you
in that flowery purple summer dress
swaying angel-like down some avenue,
inordinately elegant and breathtaking.

I'm willing to suspend
every vague trace of negativity
to become lost in all your thoughts
and tumultuous creativity,
I'll completely abandon
my thoroughly lusterless face
to smile beneath cloudless skies
enamored by your presence.

I've been deterred too long
from placing my hands on your waist
and kissing your shoulder tattoo,
I'm no longer sauntering pass floral shops
or exiting without bouquets.

But of course, I fear, all these words
are merely unrestrained escapism,
that I'll never find your hand
as I roam through the sunlit city
in search of the cafes
where your perfume lingers.

I'm not convinced that love is real,
that two people can ever discover happiness together,
but I know now, there has to be an heroic attempt,
that is the only purpose to our cascading days,
to all the delicate hours of loneliness.