Out of a Dream
December 16, 2016 § Leave a comment
How I wish that my dreams would let you go. You don’t deserve this freedom—so often you denied me—to walk in and out my kitchen, to change faces and sexes, to cook and eat in it, tell people you love me you never told you loved me, hold my hand and swim in moonlights, and all this children’s stuff. So inappropriate for someone who spat on time’s wheel. After all I am gone now and this is only your dream.