Comments
Loading Dream Comments...
You must be logged in to write a comment - Log In
When life was strong and when we’d walk as if in a dream, slipping from the métro to Dante’s hell without changing faces or pace; when love carried us like a torch from strands to waves of hair, crackling flames of promises cindered swiftly by the wind; when nights stayed white and turned our faces to the wall, moving the moon’s reflection quarter to quarter beneath our lids, it was already dancing there and strong and white, that shadow that burns all shadows while it waits for us.