In my dreams I'm loved by you. We live by the ocean in a watercolor painting of longing and desire, where every morning we awaken together, lovers greeted by the warm sun on our faces, our bodies intertwined under light sheets and light sighs. You kiss my lashes and trace my back with your fingertips as outside our window the sun's rays tickle the sand and silently caress the waves meeting the shore. The sky is a mellow orange glow, and I memorize every line by your eyes as you tell me a story with no words, and your fingers gently turn the pages. I surrender to your silence and whisper to your lips that I am whoever you want me to be, heroine, damsel in distress, penniless maidservant, but please, I beg of you, don't finish the story. Every dream is the same, and when you reach the final punctuation mark the watercolors melt off the canvas, the sun blows out like a candle, and our flame, your love for me, is nothing but thin smoke fizzling into reality.
3.30.10
