False Pictures

The dream began with the flashing of a smile, hope pressed between tongue and cheek. a vision of deep brown. The pressing of chocolate and warmed honey, seeping into pieces that haven’t seen light. The stems caress, releasing the smell of wanton need, colors dripping upon the canvas, drops splashing, trailing along the curves. Between the land and the sea, what was found was again lost to me. Between the waves and the bed, the dream was swept away. Lost, pulled into the deep, curiosity, lack of direction pulled; until it was just too deep.

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