The Maiden of My Dream

I remember it again immediately, I had succeeded in making myself wake up to escape my great-uncles' fingers. My cheek was still warm with her kiss. My body bent beneath the weight of hers. Yeah, as would sometimes happen, she had the appearance of some woman whom I had known in waking hours. And then gradually the memory of her would dissolve and vanish until I had forgotten the maiden of my dream. The rest of humanity seemed very remote in comparison with this woman,. whose company I had left but a moment ago. It's like people who set out on a journey to see with their own eye some city that they always longed to visit -  imagine that they can