It struck you like a bullet, a chill shimmering across your skin, goosebumps rising across your arms and on the back of your neck. Your eyes scanned the darkness shrouding the boat and you bit your teeth down and gently dragged them across your bottom lip. It seemed as though the sea were trying to frighten you, a mist prowling across it’s surface as the moon shone above, part of it melted into the night sky, lit by the stars.
With your nerves set on the edge, you turned back to the officer on duty, settled on a chair next to the Captain’s cabin and smiled kindly at him. “Would you like me to fetch anything for you, sir?” You questioned, approaching him to lay a hand on his weary shoulder; he looked exhausted. After all, they had been travelling for a week at sea now, with a very small number of crewmen.
"A blanket would be appreciated, m’lady. The fog is bringing in quite the chill."
The reply snapped you out of your thoughts and your features softe
There must have been a hundred pages,
Scented with the love I've been dreaming of every day.
So it is true that I read all of them before sleep sometimes,
Just once in a little while,
Slowly like the way I long to caress your lips.
And the softness of your touch haunts my every dream,
Like this longing I have of you,
Burning ever so precariously in this moment of my heart.
The light to what seems to be a way of desperation,
Or perhaps just one to break down my seams.
Your touch calls upon my skin waves upon waves of trembling need,
Leaving me in fear of your breath-taking little smiles,
A chance to lose my mind to this consolation of love in between.
But I'm the one who has been preaching the lack of beauty in a fading dream,
Lighting the light in making our own unfading dreams,
And to perhaps hoping to fall in love somewhere in between.