when he spoke to me his words were always gentle.

'tell me what to dream' he would ask.

'dream of me. dream of mornings of sleepy contentment. dream of bird song, and butterfly kisses.'

'be mine' he would ask.

'dream that im yours. dream of me curled up against you. dream of me sleeping soundly in your arms.'

and with my final words, his eyes would close. his breath would deepen. he would sleep. and smiling at the darkness, i would curl up against him, and drift off on dreamless clouds.

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