Knocked Back, Lovely Frappé, Beau Retour Knocked back into the next century of desire. I see people collecting visions across my persona. Revealing the hurt in my eyes, I look up to these strangers. Only to see the white and pink faces of concern and loveliness. I don't know if I'm in Heaven, or just somewhere else. Dream? Not at all. I'm lost in a different dimension of my dream. This mask, this persona, I hold before my face. Ripped off by the impact of warped transportation. I see the vintage sight of a perfect grassfield. This all seemed like a dream, but I could feel this certain breeze bursting on my cheeks. I could feel it, the reality that this enchanting area was. Looking up from my hands to the sky, I saw the clouds. The people, they all had smiles. This was like Heaven. Only the extremities of poets could imagine this desire I had for this winged sanctuary. Giggles, whispers, I adapted to this. Biographies of lovely faces and personalities, I could see everything about them through one look on their pupils. So many things stuck out to me. But one, mastered it all. A visage of vintage, graphic display of a delicate angel. My eyes did not fool me, as the girl looked before me. But I was so heart shaken, so heart aching. I blinked once more, and found myself, woken in my sheets. No importance of beauty, just the ever so blank sheets of turquoise and crystal. And so I said one final sentence, Before laying back down on a feathered softener for my temples. "Please. Let this dream reside in my memories."
Thank you, Jayn. I'm really glad that you like it. And I should say the same for your poems. You have a distinct, cute style.
