sleeping

He and Anna lay facing each other, Staines lying on his left hip, and Anna, on her right, both of them with their knees drawn up to their chests, Staines with one hand tucked beneath his bandaged shoulder, Anna with one hand tucked beneath her cheek. She must have turned toward him, some time in the night: her left arm was flung outward, her fingers reaching, her palm turned down...Devlin came closer...He looked down at Anna and Emery, their mirrored bodies, facing in. They were breathing in t

Tell me a story. Be my storyteller.

We were hooked when we woke.We had arms for each other.But I yearned to resumeMy dreams of another.

It's you I've been thinking, awake or sleeping,I'm always dreamingMe and you sweetly embracing :)

I also noticed that as you go to sleep the ideas continue, but they become less and less logically interconnected. You don't notice that they're not logically connected until you ask yourself, "What made me think of that?" and you try to work your way back, and often you can't remember what the hell did make you think of that!

Thinking very often resembles napping, but the intent is different. --Stephanie Plum

I don't sleep. I just let my body lie itself into numbness and lie to myself that I can't hear, see, or feel anything.

You'd corner me in your conformity but even in dormancy i'm sleeping with enormity, stretching the belly of the earth & everything i was born to be.

You smile and draw me near and whisper, "Do as dreamers do."I lean to you and whisper in your ear, "I cannot dream tonight my Dear. For it is you.

I is a dreamblowing giant,_ the BFG said. _(...) I is scuddling away to other places to blow dreams into the bedrooms of sleeping children. Nice dreams. Lovely golden dreams. Dreams that is giving the dreamers a happy time.