Distant Memory

a man not knowing if he's dead, alive, asleep see's/feels a woman that has journeyed with him through many lives but will never be his.

White 

The light, the room, the air, the sense all around him seems to all call back to the color white.

 

His eyes seem to focus on the cold white pallet that envelope him. 

Skin is covered with wet snow and no one is around. Not even a sound.

             Nothing has made him feel more alone.

 

Eyes clench shut as they try to stave off the flooding feeling of familiar disdain.

The wind blows around him coiling her scent around his body.

 That very moment he knows she’s there.

 

Dark hair, green eyes and such soft skin - it has been many lifetimes since she was truly his and only his.

Fighting the urge took too much from him, he places his hand to her cheek caressing.

               She is all he can feel.

 

His lips quiver as his breath becomes unstable, heart breaking as he tries to see her face.

Her lips move to speak but no words become audible.

                Is she just a dream?

Author's Note

Its certainly not finished but the base is there. i'm not sure if i should nix this and make it a short story.