after a weekend of ghostly appearances and a few stolen moments... on the smallest island in the land, camped out in the woods, with only a candle to light the way. he sleeps behind a red curtain covered in an illness that seeped through his body like venom. i suppose he was poisoned...
taking the time to rest and heal our separate souls, i gave him every melodic touch i had available. my hands began to shake as i released tension along his face... running presssing fingers to systematically curate blood flow. falling into the parallel dream land only seconds apart, i wonder who he seas... sees.... seize.
"do you really know what you are doing?"
he smirks under his long curly lockets...
"yes".
but honestly isn't it all just trial & error?
one.
two.
three. dreams all at once in the process, offer me the hope and joy i found once before. readings and visions say that in the present moment i stifle with the mother of swords. some might agree that inattentive describes my sense of caring... a fascinatingly threatening life form... "have we met before?"
please do not take offense in my actions, they weren't meant to hurt you. it's just part of the process and you became swept up in the storm. shadows cover the parts i wish to forget to never be able to remember.
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