The art of dreaming…

The soft gleam of whispery light seeps in from a slight shift in the blinds, hovering over my lamp light and stretching out above the ends of my hair. My finger tips pinch at the floating bits of light as they glide through the air, feeling the intangible touch of their magical airiness. My wardrobe door creaks open awaiting for me to enter yet I remain still, hunched in the corner gazing somewhat expectantly at the surface of warmth lying at eye view across my room. A smear of night blinds my view, shadowing me away from the drifting brightness so desperately trying to glisten through, but to now avail, the light surpasses and my eye lids droop. My skin eases out the folds on my forehead, the heavy bags under my eyes lightly sleep against the purple shadow looming in on my upper cheeks. My legs tense then freeze, my mind quickens then stops, I blink twice then lose, I lose all sense of willingness, all sense of control. Sleeping succumbs me to an inevitable daydream forcing me into a place where my thoughts always feel tested. I lay back awaiting the moment my eyes will open again and when they do will I still see the light draining away from my golden eyes?



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