a frustrated artist, drawing my favorite fiction craving perfection forever. i could not, however, see the flaws in any one of his drawings, his strokes were with ease and yet a little anxiety everytime. the drawings were perfect, perfect, why couldn't he see that?
some still-secret lover sitting with me, wondering and seeing for the first time. he uttered words so mellifluous that overwhelmed me, he asked "where could you have been before? how come i never found you earlier?"
oh, dreams, (holds the deepest parts of oneself) i have been remembering all of you so vividly lately.