Dreams and movies

Sunday morning. I look out the window at the winter rain. The times with V come so quickly and unexpectedly I expect them to be a blur. Yet they’re not. They are like a movie I can play backwards and forwards and freeze frame at will, each frame a thing of beauty. My mind plays the movie slowly and savors each frame.

Is she a dream become reality soon to become a dream again? It does not matter. She is here. She touches me.

She is not mine. No matter what I do, no matter how perfect I might be, she is not mine and never could be.

A cold winter rain falls outside this Sunday morning. There is no god. It’s all dreams and movies of dreams that somehow magically seem to happen.

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Published in: on February 17, 2008 at 9:36 am  Leave a Comment  

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