and now the weather

was it memory fog
muddled grey matter
wavy wishful wisps
like early dawn
head-high clouds
murking clarity
down to dream?

and if naught
but want
in absence of substance,
lack of vision
amidst storms
of pillowy lust -
what rains might fall
from skies
tossed by passion,
when reason
no longer
reasons itself,
moments freeze
with emptied desire,
meanings have no future
beyond now

that vaporous veil
will lift
with the rising sun
whence the truth be known
or come undone