I had a strange dream last night:
he is 5 years old and the soft peach fuzz of his round face brushes my cheek as he lays his head on my shoulder.wrapping my arms around the small person standing in front of me emphasizes how our lives encompass each others. despite this, the reflective quality of his expression gives me the startling realization that he is my son. my arms wrap around his back and my hands reach back again to my shoulders. his small body presses against me and i can feel his heart beating through mine. the beating of his heart is calm, his eyes are a deep brown, bright and have the carelessness which only the naivety and innocence of childhood could possess.
I woke up happy and somewhat confused.