What is love but a connection?
Is it patience if it hurts?
Fantasy is the first step in pain.
Lying on the floor near the corner of my bed I stare at the cealing watching the sun dance across a fan spining lazy circles; Above on the bed, in a sea of white sheets, she dreams. Shadows cast by the leaves and branches outside flicker over her skin and soft linen dress. She stirs causing her arm to slide off the side of the bed. Reaching forward I gently take her hand and press upon it a light kiss. Sounds of her rising begin to fill the silence of the room and soon I find myself staring into her drowsy eyes. Pulling herself free of the sheets she smiles; Once again I see her face hanging over the corner of the bed. I prop myself up to meet her gaze. There we stay for moments that feel like an eternity. Softly we kiss and in a burst of giggles she finds herself being pulled to the floor.
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