

DreamsThis is a dream.Dreams
He slowly woke from his reverie, lifting his arms from underneath his head and stretching.
He did not glance at the woman laying beside him.
He did not know her name, nor why she was there.
But he knew, just knew, that this had to be a dream.
Because if it wasn't a dream, then surely he would know who she was.
The delicate curve of her jaw, would've stirred him, images would float back of amazing times they spent together, him admiring her beauty.
But nothing.
A dream it surely was, he did not remember, having these fingers
Lips of Life
--
qui aime bien, châtie bien.
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