village dreams

Perhaps here, written

in the dying stars, wishes

are not only words.

On the thatched roof of my house, you and I lean on each other, offering wordless comforts and silent promises. Here, in the place I onced hated but now view as the golden fairyland, I allow myself one more wish. That, perhaps, here, in this timeless second minute hour, we can stay looking at the stars, together, forever. It is an infinite and undoubtedly unrealistic dream. But, just this once, away from the cars and traffic of the city, sitting here alone with you, I allow myself to indulge in childhood fantasies once more.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create your website with WordPress.com
Get started
%d bloggers like this: