First Published in Dark
Animus, Issue 3, May 2003, for the Poem, Cure All, by Mark McLaughlin.
Dusty Dreams
A Drabble by Marcia Borell
Sleep! It would be so
lovely to close my eyes and sleep. To stretch and relax into fresh sheets and
feel the heaviness of my eyelids as they slowly close. I long to feel my breath
become deep and easy filling my lungs with lilac scented air.
Dreams! To fly, run,
fall, dance, to dream instead of counting the seconds, minutes, and hours as
the hands on my clock continue to move.
The dream maker was my
only hope. He sprinkled his magic dust in my forever open eyes as I sadly stared
past him into my empty non-existent dreams.
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