Who is she? The woman in my dreams. Who is she? I know I can’t escape her. Her gaze, the phantom embrace that I feel surrounds me. She’s haunting me, eyes bearing into my soul. The mist that is surrounding us makes my recurring dream all too strange. She’s like that mist, she slips through my fingers all too easily. I’m in love with her. I adore her. I adored her. Who is she? She puts me in a trance. A dream-like trance. Is that what this is? A dream? I don't want to believe that. She stands across from me, the sunless orange sky making the angel silk she wears a blushing pink. Her hair would be the color of the sky, I know. But for now, it is a raging fire. She is the brightest thing around. Captivating. The vast expanse of grass that we stand in wets my feet. It chills me to my bones. I long to move toward her, but my feet are rooted. She smiles at me. She is beautiful. Who is she? I can only reach out my hand. Yet even that isn’t enough. So I scream out her name. What was her name again? I seem to have forgotten. Who was she? Funny. I have a feeling I should know that better than anyone else, that I know her better than anyone else. So does she know me? Her head is tilted as if she recognizes me, she is watching how an old friend reacts. The spider silk she has adorned flows like holy water as she walks toward me. Is she even walking? I cannot tell. I feel I am stuck to the grass, it is dragging me down, suffocating me, yet she gracefully is gliding through the air, a soft smile painted onto her face. I wish I could be as carefree as that. That smile is as soft as her hand when it cups my face, guides it up to hers, and tucks loose strands of brunette hair behind my ear. She says something to me, and the words are infused with love, with care, with an attentiveness I could never have for myself. Those words feel as if she has laid me upon a bed of clouds, and has spread a softer blanket atop me. What was it she said? I may never know. She doesn’t kneel beside me as I expected. Instead, I feel a kiss on my brow, and the feeling lingers even when I know her physical form hasn’t. One more word is whispered into my ear. I know that word. It is my name. Yet not even she can remind me of what it is. I have forgotten it for a reason. Who am I? I sit there for what could be a second, an hour, an eternity. But I know I have to wake up eventually. I don’t want to. I don’t want to believe this is a dream. take me back take me back take me back take me back take me back take me back take me back take me back take me back take me back take me back take me ba This isn’t where I belong. This paradise that once held her every night, where I escaped to. Knowing she wouldn’t be there otherwise. I am aware of that. I just wish it was.
