...

Shadows creep across our faces; the fading sunset filtered through the screendoor, open windows.  Fat droplets of sweat curve our similar faces, a sweltering heat even in the pattering rain outside.  The house is quiet save the melding murmur of our voices.

PAD 2012 - Day 28

Unwritten
I write you the story of us
as I dreamt it.  The moon is an illusion,
a nightmare we had once that was overshadowed by the sun.
You are the memordream I always seem to remember.