Sleeping with the light, dancing in the dark and dreaming of sunsets. Beaches and Rivers that flow through the bed as we sleep, wrapped in each others tentacles. Beauty and the Beast. This is what you tell me. I rest alone and watch the smoke billowing from the rooftops. I have a photographic memory and within 3 seconds I record 408 images.I drift in and out of consiousness submerged by what they call an interpretation of some entity as being in balance and harmony with nature, which may be leading to feelings of attraction and emotional well-being. It started as a moment. A fleeting fragment of time that was encapsulated and concieved in that very moment. The probability of meeting him there holding the brown aesculus underneath the bright shining moonlight was something that I had held in my pocket for years. We had unaccountably cultivated that precise second of time for centuries. Rubbing them and keeping them warm, patiently awaiting for your play on words. I was not however ready for this ship to sail. I will be blowing myself back to shore and the wind will carry those sweet words and brush past your forehead as you stand unaware and unsure that I am thinking of you. From the depth of my pumping vessel. an involuntary striated muscle tissue beating with every millisecond and stopping when you are near me. I am lost in those eyes of darkness and I am saved by the light laughter that surrounds us. We dance and dance. I am momentarily scared. Like a rabbit. Lost and confused. I am present to your language and the chambers in which I am spinning around in. I am sure that I don't want to let go and I am sure that I want you to be present. We are responsible. Children of the light with flames at our feet. The deepest oceans and the distant skies. I am a mirror of you and you to me. I have loved you before as many others that pass me in the street. The concept of your beauty astounds me and I am no longer in control of my mind, I am without the use of language. I do not speak. I kiss you like it is the first time that you have ever been touched. My hands follow your skin and I am reading every part of you, but there are miles of thousand of clouds to jump to and from. Forever wandering and wondering about every small detail that surrounds you and your thought patters, your thought programmes that I sit up late at night and watch like old black and white movies whilst you sleep next to me, smothering me with your arms. I do not want broken fragments. I cannot breathe yet it is like the first breath that I have ever inhaled.