I notice the cold creeping inside the room.  Kneeling behind me, breathing heavily on my neck, waiting for my answer.  As the stars start collapsing all around  you, I reach out and grab your hand.  It is soft.  I dream.

 One day I will tell you all there is to tell about telling everything.  I will be able to share, to be understood, to be included.  We will move away into a forest,  and we will open a store.  We will sell nuts to all the critters and weapons to the wolf at the door.  We will trade magical fairy secrets for a pint of beer or a  glove.  We will make the world our garden, and walk about the sun.  You stop. The room becomes nostalgic. I dream.

 Let's put the sky in a bottle, and paint a new one instead.  We can choose our own colors, and splash with our own hands.  We'll make amends and give  back the rainbows we stole.  As we skip away into the ocean, we make up dancing steps.

 Then we sink. 

 You are gone. 

 I dream.