Tossing and turning, turning and tossing, hot and uncomfortable. An aching neck and loud, incessant noises clanging in my ears, and dreams... dreams, dreams, dreams...
Rushing and brushing and changing and hurrying, never on time, never quite ready, squandering moments together over petty inconveniences...
But I set myself to rights in time. Scurry away, searching until I see him striding towards me again. Oh his face before mine, over and over... His arms...around me, grasping me tightly again so briefly...
Coming and going, going and coming, scores of visits in the course of one night. Dozens of tiny trinkets exchanged.
What mind does my heart have, to send me such visions in the dark of night? I find little joy in them. As I sit up in bed after the long night, twisting and twirling and combing my fingers through my dry, matted, unkempt morning hair; only a bittersweet aftertaste lingers in my mind.
I scramble and roll out of my bed, pulling pillows and blankets down with me, trying to escape the frantic night time faux memories.
But to no avail. They trail behind me like a little shadow, haunt the passages of my troubled mind (stress over impending projects) like ghosts.