To the one who exists in the imagination of every girl who dared to love...
The morning sounds came stirring through my window,
sneaking past the curtain and tumbling into my heart without apology.
The dreaming was good; my mind casting a net
over the fading vestiges of an undefined fable;
that final cast, before it slips away and disappears
into a watery grave,
where all fading dreams go to rest.
Nestled safely in your harbour, I lay here,
stubbornly resisting the call to waking.
Your arms embracing my willing body;
the warmth of your heart;
my anchor.
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