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She touched his hair. His slumber made her think of lullabys and clouds. She envied it. His bliss. For her own came through him. He was so tangable, but so hard to get. She smiled. Her tears in her eyes signified the joy. Her wings were her own. She felt misunderstood. Awake, and yet dreaming. She was in a state of disbelief. Somewhere in between. But she knew that she was happy. A tear rolled down her cheek and fell onto his face, disturbing the slumber. His eyes opened and he smiled back, wiping her face with his calloused hands. He pulled her to him and they both returned to the bliss once more. It felt real inside and out. Don't wake me from this dream.
 Made27 · Wed Mar 30, 2005 @ 12:14am · 1 Comments |
