SlightlyCrying

Our time is a dream Above even serenity Away from divinity Afar from our ability To separate circumstances From our stability

The One would tell stories of the stars and Suns, of dragons and fangs, and of power and plans. The Other would draw in the dirt of dreams and memories not quite ready to be seen, told of horrors One would never believe and of sadness, loneliness and the darkness between trees. On one of those slightly darkened, destined nights, right on the edge of sunlight, One gave the Other a new thing to share and delight. One thought that instead of bringing something each day, that the other cherished and took away, that instead they would hide them with the Sky, where during day, they hid away waiting, for when day parted and night was reclaimed, the

"...And as they sat together, apart, they both knew the end. The stars had nearly vanished completely, only a few swirls remained, and the Moon was just touching the tips of the trees. The clouds had warmed slightly, and the wind had picked up the last few scraps of heat it could pry, to push between them, and yet the night was unwilling to finish. Not just yet. The noise of the darkness had disappeared, and along with it their secrets and stashes, their Stars and their memories. Yet they sat and waited for each other to speak..."    What brought them together was unexpected, and within each other they found a little bit a happiness, enough