Dear heart, I dreamed you would rest upon floating clouds

Dear heart, I dreamed you would rest upon floating clouds, not on the prickling hay, nor the coldness of unyielding stone. That’s why I stayed away from the smoke of his breath, spiraling to claim my neck with a misty embrace. I kept my skin away from his secret touch, and my gaze lowered, afraid to catch his gleam. Before our demons introduced themselves, speaking in foreign tongues until their words united. Before we understood each other's burden of pain, before the first tear fell, before joy shattered into a fragile smile that spoke in whispers. After he laid a tapestry of unfulfilled thoughts at my feet, and I danced for him, moved by his unspoken desires. After mastering the art of creating a melody from two notes, only then did I wish to... but why tire myself, dear heart, when time follows its own path, regardless of our wounds? Ignoring the fervent desires of people, to possess a spark that hides an inferno in its belly. Thus, we remain dreamers under skies that do not yet know us, hoping that one day, the clouds will know how to bear our burden.