“you haven’t dreamed. you haven’t dreamed like i have,” he said with glee, his head tilted towards the stars.

“subtle. i know how to spell that, s u b tle.
 am i subtle?”  
he frowned and rested the bowl against his beard.
“not subtle. supple.”
i leaned over and rested my head, curles awry, into my hands. i took the bowl and sucked. “i guess i’d always thought i was because i liked the word.” i said to myself.