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Sometimes I lie awake at night, my alertness spurred by a dream: A distant memory from long ago. I can't bear the thought of sleep but after a long while I can't stand to stare at the white ceiling. Before I can protest my own actions, I drift off to another place, a place far from here .
"Prussia?" I say quietly.
I lay sprawled on the soft grass, only wet from the day's earlier rain. From where I am lying, I can stare at the stars. As always I am amazed by how such beautiful things can exist in a world as cruel as this.
"Prussia?" I asked again.
A soft rustling in the grass next to me tells me he is listening. I turn my head away from the stars; my soft emerald eyes meet his deep crimson eyes. He notices me looking at him and smiles.
"I have a dream Hungary." He says, is voice no louder than a whisper.
"You have a dream." I repeat laughing.
Smirking, Prussia points towards the sky.
"Look at them, look at those stars." He orders his hand moving as if to captu
I would lay down to sleep at night; I would close my eyes and dream. It is the same dream every night; a beautiful but sad dream. I would be sitting at piano, a white piano, fingering the keys, playing forgotten notes; I would be daydreaming hitting keys making no real sound. But it feels to me like I used to play, play beautiful songs that I now have forgotten. I can feel hands on mine but they are not real they are ghost hands, a fleeting memory, guiding me to the notes I once knew. My face is full of wonder as the keys began to make a song; a song that I can't quite remember. Was it my song? The notes that I play are like a haunting memory; I can't stop because these gentle hands guide me. I can almost feel the warmth of someone behind me but I know no one is there.
On one key I pull back, the broken note reverberates through the quite room. On that strained note, in which continues to play in my ear, I pull my hands to my face. Tears began to fall on the silent keys, the warmth has
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More