A Dream Like You
You are a dream. An impossible, recurring one. The sort that you expect on a particularly lonely night. It is set in the same wondrous locale where the buildings are of uneven sizes. There is no uniformity but the roads largely run straight, only to curve sharply when you least expect. In such a dream no one dies instantly but everyone is not fully alive either. No no, not the Zombie-type. You are more beautiful than death. The roads run around cliffs which overlook the sea, the kinds which you don't care about. Perhaps that's how much you think about me too. Not much. I wonder if you ever wonder about such things. But dreams don't bother about who dreams them. Though the dreamers struggle with many different dilemmas. Neither of which concern the dream itself. You play hide and seek but I always lose. Though I also always play. I am not a big fan of losing but losing to you, I don't mind so much. Other dreams don't matter so much to me but you do. Such a strange b