I fell into a troubled sleep and there you were. As always. Your eyes, full of light. Lips open, words to soothe me tumbling out.
I buried my face in your hair, feeling it spiral and slip past my cheeks, down my arms, the tangled ends brushing my thighs. Moving gently in the breeze.
Then I awoke.
But this time, I could not reach out and touch you, run my fingers along the silky curtain that holds your scent.
Not this time.
Maybe not ever again.
I like the hair playing such an important part. I felt very feminine.
Sadness … why do we fear letting go so?
Fantasia, he does have gorgeous lustrous hair.
And I think we are not afraid to let go. We are wary of what comes after.