Cannonball Tree 2002-01-17 7:22 p.m.


I dreamt of you, my friend...

I was standing in a church, a step above our closest friends... Looking into a crowd of familiar faces, I saw you sitting there...

You leaned to your right and foward a little... Your fair hair falling a little to close to your eyes.

You tugged on your clothes and moved slightly so... like your presence wasn't comfortable... like you didn't belong.

I watched you... a little in envy and completely in awe.

I felt forced to say your name... to call on you to come to me... to touch me... to hug me...

And with your name on my tongue... I cried.

You were as beautiful as I remember, as tall... and as strong... You reached out to wrap around me... and with the touch of your skin, I shook in your arms.

I dreamt last night we stood together in the house of God. Our presence so real and wildly intense. A beginning after our end.

Is this how you visit, my Friend?


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