Dolls in a Tree

I climbed into a another dream, just a baby doll in a wooden house hung in a big tree. Tired of playing dress up, jumping hoops, signing dotted lines, I wanted no more than to sleep in the limbs of time.
I curled into bed, sheets of satin stained red, but when awoke I was no longer alone, alas I felt the arms of company. I heard the pretty blond man, his velvety voice spoke softly over the sound of sand, rolling out of the hour glass just above. "Did you sleep well my love?"

I looked up surprised, in this dream divinely devised, but how happy I was to pleasantly find, Layne was there smiling right back inside. He was so full of life, I wanted to nestle my whole body in the cradle of his cobalt eyes, curl up like a cat where the color cleared like a translucent sky, vast immaculateness behind life. His hair was no longer torn in disarray as it had been the dream before, so curly and lustrous now billowing down, vibrantly gold and sheik. I admired the way a few stray curls fell artfully upon the apples of his lovely baby cheeks. He was still chaotically pale, but he eluded a delicate calmness of a peaceful male that I had never felt before, certainly not coming from a person so scorned by life and addictions to needles and rails. He pressed his lips with intent to the top of my head and I closed my eyes just long enough to feel him inhale my scent, lavender mixed with a little sweet pea. My eyes opened up, ablaze with green glee, all of my giddiness fled out past my teeth as I laughed and reached up to stroke Layne's grief. Not much trace of it now, but oh how I wanted to stay there and love him, my dashing dream sweet! Let's forget the pins of deceit and just be dolls in a tree.

(c) Jessica Robbins