To the boy of my dreams and nightmares
There was once, in a dream I felt your hand on mine. You held my hand gently. Your hand was soft and cold. It warmed up an instant later. I woke up then. We have occasionally touched hands by accident. I want mine to linger there a bit but I move it away fast, in fear that you will notice how much I want your hand with mine. Your hand would fit perfectly with mine.
From the girl that dreams
YOU ARE READING
With love
Short StoryShe loved him, he didn't know -slightly longer synopsis inside -cover photo does not belong to me -short story/poetry
