Dragons, angels, gnomes, creatures beneath the Earth that make words with hammers, a shooting star that shoots back, rain falling from the ground to the sky, bars that refuse to serve dwarfs or wanderers, a foundtain that makes you young(and lonely) while those around you grow old, saplings that know everything, a sea made of tears from every lover you never loved, a silver boat with a sail made of pages from all the books that were never written.
All my dreams are beautiful. But you are the reason I return here each morning.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
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