• Once, the touch that gifted the blush, soft and timid, but yearning and sealed in a hazy cloud upon swirling chairs. A fluttering smile, dark eyes alight with return, came forth with two petals, moist and sweet, three times, each the tick of the clock. A dream savored, eyes closed, felt the replica of authentic flesh, blood and skin mingling with that savored delicacy. It was only the shroud of dreams lifted, the garish sun blasting the time of awakening, when all the magic slippers were crushed and scattered into shards, glass treading upon silvery, cool, gushing water that felt like a heart's cold, dripping blood.