That you have but slumbered here (while these visions did appear)

Close your eyes.

I dreamt I met a boy
with deep set eyes
and sand scrubbed skin,
sitting in the grass
that tickled my knees –
while he played hide and seek
with the fishes.

I blinked when he kissed

the pink skin (on my shin)

smooth like a skipped stone.

Looking to the sky,
drinking still-sweet raindrops
whispering and
waking

memories
of windswept walks
and Easter egg Sundays.

Clicking our heels

on the cobblestone streets,
we saw sunshine
stretch its strong arms

across a lake of lace.

And our hearts raced
when we remembered the sensation
we had tore from our
fingertips
and drank from our
lungs.

And when I woke,
I cried
for the boy, with a heart

warmed by the heat of one thousand
dragon sighs
who traced my shadow
with his powdered chalk
from when he was but six
and pebble sandwiches
were all the rage.