He was lying beside her. She had wrapped both arms around his neck, her eyes firmly closed. They passionately kissed caressing each other. He told her little secrets about his love for her and she returned his affection. They were in that heaven on earth where only lovers can be.
When she heard her alarm clock she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Then she kissed her cushion a last time, patted it goodbye and got up.
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You see, here you'll find poems and prose of opportunity and seasons. They're ours, though, so we have to protect them. Respect! Thank you!
Readers are welcome! If you are willing to follow the iconian path, you should know that it is always you we are talking to, even if it is not. And that everything is true, even if it is not. We all are eternally united in the last space possible where even the impossible is real. We ought to believe the foretold: If we'll meet tomorrow, next year, or never, it doesn't matter, it's only time! And everything, even time is fiction.
By the way, typos and other mistakes - we know there are many. If you can be bothered, please let us know. Thank you! And for any legal issues, please contact us before we have to tell you that we're skinned. But you can also write, of course, if you like what you read. Please, write to the webmaster.
