A half knitted dream.

Picture credits : Pinterest 


The shifting play of light and shadow, driving past the deserted streets. The downpour of heavy rain, igniting the fervent flow of undoused flame. 

She stole a glance of him and met his sweet chocolate gaze, a smile touched the corners of his mouth, bringing back a fimiliar fire in her heart, telling her dreams had begun again. 

His eyes fixed on the road ahead, their minds on the “remember when” s, unvoiced feelings filling the heat of the chilly night, warmth of their skin brushing past by. 

Darker stories followed the lighter tales, making her feel at home in the middle of nowhere,their entangled fingers filled her with what she craved since forever and a day. 

Oh how those shattered pieces that she lay bare infront of him, cut her when the night had ended and with that, the half knitted dream. And oh how deftly she hid the agony of leaving it all behind, swirling her skirt around and disappearing into the absoluteness. 

To the ones it doesn’t happen for. 

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20 thoughts on “A half knitted dream.

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