We

dined

by the

candlelight,

her eyes twinkled

and twinkled and

twinkled. The clink

of our forks, the swirl

of our drinks, the 

aroma of the food.

The words floated

out of her mouth.

"A Dream"

she says. A Dream.

I think to myself,

"What is mine?"

Oh, that's it.

That is my dream.