Chapter Text
Before the sun rises today I will have three dreams. I dream first of gold. The corn in the field is swaying, so softly, in the autumn breeze, and your body is covered like a king's. This rich cloth is no silent witness, but I trust it to keep its secrets, buried like the seeds that spring to life as the seasons pass. I am not afraid. I dream next of incense. My mind is clouded by its fragrance: I float unheeding of the cries. The swelling tides of the thrashing sea drown the screams of the gulls, sharp beaked though they may be. What am I if not free? I am not afraid. I dream last of darkness. Space is the final frontier, they say, but beyond the stars is no one and nothing. Here I lie, anchored by you to a place none may reach, except perhaps in dreams. Confused; I am not dreaming, but dying. Am I? I am not afraid. And so I gasp, and wake, and forget; As the sun rises today I will lose three dreams, and you.