Love Story on the Watchtower

At 2 am in the morning, I want to be an elf. Or a hobbit. But definitely not a man. Elves murmur like water in brooks. And white, their dresses. And dragons, they tame. Or a hobbit. Gardening. Pipes. And food. I love smials, I love bare feet. I love curly hair; green, yellow. To fall in love with an elf, immortal and enchanted. He’d sing me songs, they’d sing our love. We will ride dragons and live in a tower, overseeing the whole of land. The whole of life, then we’d kiss.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s