A dresser scratched my arm.
My blood trickled from the wound.
Proof of my existence will fade sometime.
I stood on the railing of a bridge.
The scenery reflected on the surface of the river.
My narrowed eyes glimpsed a set of shoes.
I was falling down headlong into the water.
When I crashed into it, I met you.
A spray of water rose like smoke.
Then, my sleeping eyes finished swimming in the dream.
Then, my arm's wound stopped trickling blood.