She Walked On Coral Sidewalks

She walked on coral sidewalks and looked through turquoise windows framed by cream eyelids. Her sky was yellow and cloudless. At the end, she could see the last house. Unlike all others, it had one drape drawn. The space was winking at her (knowing what was to come next, before she could dream it).

It was in this dream he found himself. His dream had become fragmented, the grey trees shattered by an oddly colored canvas of coral, cream, turquoise and yellow.

There was a girl walking down the street.

When she found him in her dream, he had bled grey.

Crying, he was seated on grey grass, beneath a grey sky and shaded by (what else?) a grey tree. Crying, his dream faded as she came closer – only, this he couldn't see because he had, once more, buried his face in his hands in search of tortured loneliness.

She had never had a boy in her dream. Must be some sort of a man, she thought: he was too large for any boy of sorts.

A scarf, her landscape of colors traveled and filled her surroundings until she found him seated on the coral sidewalk by the winking house.

There was no hesitation in her movement as she reached down and placed her hand on his shaking shoulder. Innocence allowed people to do this; innocence allowed her to be free, and to trust. To trust.

To trust her would have meant he could eventually love her. To love her meant walking away with her. Grey threatened, he thought. Or perhaps: Grey, threatened, he thought.

So he didn’t trust her, and therefore never knew what it meant to love her. Choosing comfort of loneliness over the challenge of unknown, he shook her hand away and turned toward Grey.

Strangers, they faced one another in his bed.

Alone, she cried over her sullied scarf.
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I don't really know what the above is, I think it was a dream...it just sort of makes sense written this way.