The snow has not yet fallen. Our intertwined
fingers find needful solace
in the tightness of affection;
and delaying the kiss
that will end it, I perceive
that love is like sleeping.
My dreams glide into yours
and meet in the halo of our intertwined
vision – I am sleeping,
and though I know that December
apart is livable (for I have breathed
the icy air before, and found it
non-toxic) – though I know this, I delay,
clinging to the melting moments of our intertwined
whispers – for, like any sleeper,
what I fear is not consciousness, but
waking.
(I wrote this November 29, 2006.)
Brian D. Buckley 
“…what I fear is not consciousness, but waking.” BEAUTIFUL! Thank you, Alexandra
Thanks Alexandra! That’s the line I was most proud of, too. 🙂
Yes, it’s so clear but at the same time complicated to explain at length… If I may, I’d like to try and see if my interpretation is correct: consciousness=life/ waking= to stop dreaming…so, what I fear is not living my life, but living my life without the dream… Kind of?! It’s a hobby of mine to crack my head trying to understand phrases like yours…
🙂 For most poems, mine included, there is generally not a single correct interpretation, or a secret meaning to be deciphered. My own interpretation is that being alone is not as intensely painful as the act of parting, just like plunging into cold water is scarier than being in cold water. But your interpretation is lovely and also makes sense.
Oooohhh, of course!!! That’s the wonderful thing about poetrybas an art, it is a subject of interpretation based on the reader’s life experience… Beautiful