One Dewy Kiss

Dew kiss

He looked at me … I do not know for sure but it seemed like that ….

Eyes that are not eyes
That’s what I see when I close mine

And he comes to see me closer and to talk to me, but introduce herself without saying his name.

I know his name … By the scarcity of my sense of reality, my imagination has to complete the full details.

The Heights, the hair’s colors, the soft hands … so can not be entirely the true. One story without truths is doomed to failure….
I am not the same, sorry …. I forget sometimes….
The use of my five senses … they are blurry , working against each other . They simply changed without permission…

The taste is smell, the touch is sight, the hearing is memory and the kiss. OH! The kiss It is like well dewy light rain falling on our face.
I think that dew’s Kiss is for who are far away. A kiss that does not exist. For someone that is adrift in the world. But it makes me sad anyway. And the sadness is almost invisible, pale, as I try to put it on paper. I make an effort to hold you but my words are shallow, so shallow. And so it fades, fades and you’re gone. Alone … in slow steps getting lost in the mists of your own  path.

42 thoughts on “One Dewy Kiss

  1. Hello I have nominated you for the Dragon’s Loyalty Award. There is no pressure with me whether you accept the award or if you decline it. Through the questionnaire it is a good way to get to know people when they answer questions. Please follow this link https://seeingthewhisper.wordpress.com/2015/12/15/dragons-loyalty-7-questions-to-know-me-better/ and you will see what is expected upon accepting the award.
    Be well my friend I couldn’t find an About me section so I hope you don’t mind me putting this in the comments of this blog post

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Does it work? Hmmm… one of the stories of my youth ends with me tumbling down our back stairs with a sheet over my head and ending in a ball, upside down against the kitchen door. I tumbled into the kitchen when my father opened the door and demanded, “What the HELL are you doing?”

    “Playing ghost,” I said.

    True story!

    Like

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