Darkness closed above us like an enormous eyelid. And it was winter. And we slept and were alone. And I know that I dreamt.
Painful Dreams.
But the dawn broke. (Funny that we should call it “breaking”.) And I was wakened by the light and warmth. And I smiled then.
At the memory of my dreams.
But you did not open your eyes then. SLEEPING BEAUTY. You hid yourself away and dreamt what dreams you dream. Eyelids and
blankets holding the sun at bay.
And I (fool that I am) thought that I might wake you. Whispered the springtime in your ear. And sang to you the sun, as best
I know how.
I said, “You are not alone.”
I think that you probably heard me. But you thought that I was another dream, and were afraid. And you would not wake.
It was truth I spoke to you. You are not alone. We are parted by your eyelids only.