You are beautiful. The very definition of it. Your long hair, your perfectly toned face. Could it really be that you are perfect? I had a dream of us holding hands miles from here, breaking free of this world, loving truly, the span of a moment, pure love unleashed. And As we stare into the bright light of the moon and time passes without remorse, I know that this dream has come true. We slowly go to sleep as each of us holds hands. I wake first the next morning, noticing your head on my left shoulder and how your smooth, long hair flows like a river over my arm. You sleep so fair, so quiet. With every breath you take I notice more and more that yes, you are the one. I caress the locks of your hair ever so gently. Smooth like silk. You suddenly awake, and smile to see that I am the first thing you see. We talk about things that don't matter, but I really could care less. You are the best I will ever have and I think, no, I KNOW that I am the luckiest man in the world. Oh Takara, a maid
Survivor
