Fire in the Wind

"Why do I dream everynight that I am desperately in love?  And almost always that love is doomed..."

I woke bleeding with a dagger in my heart.  I was too weak to remove the blade.  Not in strenght, but in sentiment.  I wished to bare the broken heart though dreamlike in it's origin.

I lay in bed to recollect the moments.  The moments where real enough to me then, can they be real to me now? I remember a kiss, a longing, a touch, a loss, eyes looking back at me in a way I never have experienced anywhere outside of deep slumber.