It seems like I’ve been asleep for years. I re-examine the world and submit to consciousness. Can you tell me what is real?
As we pass, looking idly into shop windows, we breathe in the quiet night air. Quick steps and shallow breaths help alleviate the cold. Everything is hushed now. On all those nights where playful lights dangled over our heads, I watched you with amazement. But I know in the morning the sorrow will take you again, and everything will disappear. Can you bear to show me what is real?
My voice is gone. I’m learning to re-write the meanings, as I try to push my cynicism away. And we ran through the streets like children, laughing. Was it really so hard? I’m not asking for anything from you.
I clung to you in the leaves; you said you didn’t mind. With echoes of, “they aren’t, but they might as well be,” I fall asleep to your silent songs. And as I wake, I realize the dream is over.
No comments available ...