I was sitting in an over-sized orange and soft fabric chair. It was so large it made me feel small. The room was dark but for the shadows dancing across my skin and the fire in the fireplace popping and snapping the moisture from its firewood.
You stood facing the fire with hands in your front jean pockets. Your shoulders betraying your silent tears. I wanted to comfort you but I couldn’t move. I felt frozen.
I couldn’t reach for you. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t do anything but watch you.
I looked from you to me again. And watched the shadows dance on my ceramic skin.
*BASED ON A DREAM