"Under Milk Wood"

Come closer now.
Only you can hear the houses sleeping in the streets in the slow deep salt and silent black, bandaged night. Only you can see, in the blinded bedrooms, the coms and petticoats over the chairs, the jugs and the basins, the glasses of teeth, Thou Shalt Not on the wall, and the yellowing dickybird-watching pictures of the dead. Only you can hear and see, behind the eyes of the sleepers, the movements and countries and mazes and colours and dismays and rainbows and tunes and wishes and flight and fall and despairs and big seas of their dreams.
From where you are, you can hear their dreams.

- Dylan Thomas

***

Thurday. Dear Diary, I found my smile again. Soulmate was late again (like always), but came with (as always) his charm and green bicycle, a basket full of indian mangoes on one hand and a young rose on another. He pulled out my locket and put our old picture in it. Now I carry the little thing with me everywhere. A memory embedded in my chest, a story of love carved in my heart.

Friday. I am sick now. My teddy never fails to remind me: "you are never be alone"

♥

haze