I dreamt of you, my sweet friend.
Our finest lines drawn together, every brush was beautiful.
You were in white, a stark contrast to your black dress.
I was struck by your beauty.
We spoke in terms of familiarity, but our touch was far more intimate.
There we spoke, side by side,
I hung on your every word,
Your breath hung sweet on my breast.
When I woke, I was at peace.
I could still feel your soft skin, your cool lips.
Every uttered word, every turn and twitch.
And when I close my eyes, I’m once again cradled in your chest.
