Sup3rnality

I remember once upon an August, awhile since the trail was left cold; a voice came late at night seeking refuge. A voice I've not heard speak my name that way since the trail ran cold.

And I swear I thought it a dream. So sudden into sleep it came bidding my attention...and I wish I gave it that. Mind yawning too wide to hold in sleep. I forgot those wistful words for a yesterday. Forgot how it'd ached to think of posibilities but handed none. I forgot.

I do not remember now what passed for conversation that night. I can only wish I did. A hope to hold on to when even straws begin to crumble; a cruel whisper of warmth yet so cold when in night. But rather that, than the silence of vacuum.

Is it this I am supposed to hold on to? Or is it the comforts said in my ear when all was crashing like waves? Or the song on the other end of the line? Or is it the look I'm somtimes graced with...?

Tell me. Tell me now. Or will this familiar stranger call again once in an August?

Yours, Lin~