Rick Miller
whispers
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Iâm dreaming of you now,
With your arms reaching gently for me.
A voice calls from the shadows,
Whispering so tenderly.
The clock on the mantle doesnât see.
I look in the mirror,
Your face seems much nearer,
Your eyes glowing dark in the light.
My arms reach out to you,
They seem to pass through you,
This vision has faded from sight.
I awake in the darkness,
Thereâs a scent of perfume in the air.
And although I see nothing,
I know that you have been here.
Your voice softly calling, I can hear.
I look in the mirror,
Your face seems much nearer,
Your eyes glowing dark in the light.
My arms reach out to you,
They seem to pass through you,
This vision has faded from sight.