"The thing I like most about you is your stillness," he said. "You're like an beautiful old room in a big old house. Full of muted grandness and warmth. You're dreaming but content."
You say you're staying out of trouble but I've never seen you slow down from this frenetic pace and I don't think you ever will. It's like you found me doing pidgeon steps along a straight line with a bend of the knees and a self satisfied smile and you started skipping in circles around me and ahead of me just to show you could. Occasionally taking my hand and pulling me for a run/skip/hop in the breathless early hours but your eyes wanted to see everything in this world and I only had eyes for you.
I had a dream I was in an enourmous castle made of quartz, huge towers of shining rock too big for me to walk from one end to another in one day. I walked and walked looking for everything and anything and saw nothing but angular rock, beautiful but unforgiving. I finally reached the end, indifferent and meaning to turn back you were behind me, had been following me this whole time. You stopped, this was your castle I realised and now you were standing across from me holding your hands together like you were practising your golf, swaying back and forth. And then with a smile you were suddenly tracing the smooth space between my eye and my eyebrow.