Sleep Baby Dragon

I'm on the couch looking through my lens at the other couch where
she lays out long and tired. Her face fills the frame as she sleeps and
I make small adjustments in focus until she is faultless. Small
nostrils gently flare with her warm sweet breath like a beautiful baby
dragon and my finger hovers over the trigger. Her long hair has washed
over one side of her pale cheek and she calmly brushes it aside with
the back of her hand. Focusing tighter on her lips I can see secret
tiny murmurings of fear, of pleasure, of torment, I cannot tell at
first. I begin to read her magnified lips on a minute scale. She is
telling me something, mouthing words so delicately and deliberately for
me to understand as only I can.
"I'm falling, I'm falling. When will I stop? I'm falling, I'm falling.
Why can't I fly?"
Over and over and the words keep coming and I can almost hear her
actually saying the words through the lens and yet her lips are barely
in motion. I feel as if I am about to fall myself into her mouth, as I
stand on tiptoes on the edge of her lips, holding myself up against her
warm, sweet breath. Just as I almost fall, I put the camera down and
she opens her eyes, rubs them and smiles.
"I had the most bizarre dream," she says.
"It's OK," I say, "I got it all on film."