By Charles Moffat
I dreamt of her again last night.
When we first kisses it was sweet and tender, almost by accident.
But every kiss after that was more feverish than the last.
It had been so long since we had last seen each other.
We have both changed so much since then.
But the old flame still burns strong inside us.
I cannot change the way things are.
Nor can I change the way I feel about you.
The brief moments we are together, even in my dreams, make it all worthwhile.
Mayhaps you are dreaming of me too.
The same dream. The same feverish kisses.
6 years ago