My dream has a name, and a mind, and a heart all its own. No matter how distant it seems, I feel it in my deepest corners; peeling back the edges of my heart and making them flutter. A shadow aches over every moment that comes and goes with my dream (still a dream). Somewhere in between the comings and goings, sometimes, I get a little taste. It goes down rough and sweet like a wine that's aged too long. I've waited, long and patient, to be realized by a dream.