Dream Scribe

2022-11-29 12:07:00 (UTC)

Primordial Oceans.

Your long sun-blonde hair
has spread in drifts
across your pillow.
You breathe in even, deep dreams.
Every muscle shaped
on your semi-naked form
relaxed in sleep.
The Angels stand close
to you.
(With love you don't even
know about.)
Your mosquito net
encloses a sleep
even deeper than the
Primordial Oceans
moving in
Whispers and Sighs
outside your open windows.
When a breeze whips the
curtains around
a wave lazily answers.

And so you shall sleep on,
For days to come.
Paradise has called you :
Come. Rest with me.

To remember, is to understand.