A Reflection:
The curtains fall over my slumbering body, while the fading light seeps through the undulating patterns of the pillow, massaging the temples of my tilted head; the shadow play resembles the outline of a woman I once abandoned.
When I awake, I will disappear again, thinking of how:
There is no more painful thing than looking at beauty, with the reflection of the sun in your eyes and start to cry.
Cover art: The Death Chatterton by Henry Wallis, 1856
Awesome stuff Rasmus! Ras! (Razumikin?) your poem pairs so well with the painting dude it's insane!
The sun is its own character in this