The Power And Impossibilium

I dreamt about you last night.

It was the first time in a long while that my unconscious mind has wandered down this road. My conscious mind, aware of time and distance, has been battered by the ravages of war. It still longs for things that can never be.

But while I sleep, an alternate universe is woven like a web that glimmers with a fresh morning dew. And in it, I relive your beauty. 

My gaze falls upon your raven hair and its perfect sheen. I can feel your warmth through our clothes as we sit pressed against one another in an overcrowded car. Your scent penetrates the nostrils of my unconscious self with a delicacy that my conscious mind is no longer able to recall. Your smile delights me and your throaty laugh hints towards a deep, untamed passion. My lips are even allowed a subtle moment to brush your bare shoulder, unnoticed by everyone except you and I. 

Here, in this place created by my memory and my imagination, we are unchanged by the events of our conscious lives. Our past is alive, our present is altered and our future is immaterial. It is the moment and I am cleansed by its purity.

Inevitably, I wake to the realization that it is merely a dream, a reflection of the raw power you hold within my heart. I am moved to tears by the beauty of it and also by its impossibility.

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