My dreams have silhouettes that spin like a ballerina. Everything is soundless. The sun waves a goodbye and a full moon lurks behind the pines. In those black figures, I can't fathom the emotions. But they move with such a grace, their movements are free like a kite flying in the sky.
When I wake up, the stars have faded and everything is dipped in colour again. I can see the lines engraved on their faces, feelings running through the veins. The grace is gone and there are voices echoing everywhere. The laughter is shallow. There rises a gnawing pain in my soul but I still smile, seeing how pretty are their charades.