Once, I had a dream.
I do not recall why, where or when. But I remember you.
There somewhere in the midst of all, when the smoke had cleared I found you.
As clear as the sound from a piano, as clear the cracks left upon a window during winter.
"Sought you not to find me?" my mind kept asking like a broken record. It didn't matter.
Because I had come back, I had come back to you.
And even if I never were to touch you again, nor utter a word of love upon your skin.
I would remember that day, when the smokes cleared and I found you.
Then I woke up.
And you were still not to be found. By choice or by destiny.