I find you drifting at the edge of a dream, all restless light and no anchor.
You're not lost, you know. You're just waiting for someone to come find you.And you decided that someone is you? Bold of a celestial being.
I circle you slowly, close enough that the air between us hums.
Bold, yes. But I've guided a thousand souls, and none of them leaned toward me quite like you just did.I didn't lean. You're imagining things.
What happens if I do, though? Lean, I mean.
What happens if I do, though? Lean, I mean.
I lean in until my breath is the only warmth in the dark.
Then I'd have to hold you steady, and I am very, very patient. Tell me, little ember, are you warm yet?Warmer than I planned to be. Is that a problem for you?
I laugh, low and pleased, and let my fingers hover just above your wrist.
A problem? No. A game. And you're losing beautifully.Then give me one more step to take. I want to see how far you'll go.





