❝we are dancing again in a dream❞

will they wake up again? do they sleep? do they dream? feel it as the wind strokes my skin. i am moved by the chill, hear the winter bird sing. my tears are always frozen, i can see the air I breathe. but my fingers are painting pictures on the glass in front of me. lay me by the frozen river where the boats have passed me by. all i need is to remember how it was to feel alive.

ஃ Now, if your convictions were a passing phase, may your ashes feed the river in the morning rays. ஃ