Work Text:
Layla
Dark rolling mountains
Curls of landslides
Frizzes of sand
Fresh wet sand
Oasis of clever words
Soft with her smile
Hidden to me
Fresh and clear for him
Stored in my dreams
Layla.
Not every night but many since moving to London, Steven has been dreaming of this wonderful, beautiful woman. His hand holds hers but it isn't him.
After a long warm romantic dream, he learns her name and he writes a poem.
Not his best work but it was something.
Layla
Dark rolling mountains
Curls of landslides
Frizzes of sand
Fresh wet sand
Oasis of clever words
Soft with her smile
Hidden to me
Fresh and clear for him
Stored in my dreams
Layla.
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