by Corbin

Your dark hair made the sky as you moved over me. Your dark eyes shined, paler than they should be, nearly golden, then darker than the space between the stars. Your pale skin all the light in the world. Everything but us would melt away.

Sometimes you would say my name, others only whispered, breathy, unintelligible sounds.

In the dreams, you said my beard was too scratchy; when I shaved it off, went to work, you laughed and said I looked too young.

I never knew if the dreams were my own, you, or some reflection of your fractured self.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License