When the real becomes a dream, T
In a translucent sky, our hearts appealed each other, looking almost ethereal.
The warmth shining from your eyes and reserved in your palms impressed me every time, seemingly being capable of holding the whole weight of affection and maybe, commitment. And maybe, allowing to latch our hearts open, to let wind plant seeds in somewhere deep in our mind.
The view we watched day and night by the promenade kept a diary for us about the love language we showed and hid.
Our smile and kisses, beautifully raw, lost in reality, leading passion some ways to grow, to maybe, commitment. The tongues were filled with strong longings, making sure the real was never lying.
Every moment passed with eternity in which a rock dove could carry the message – don’t worry, you can love this person wholeheartedly.
Solid. Pristine. Ineffable.
Surreptitiously, hope slid in.
Like mounds collapsed, the cuts of betrayal left on my body without a breath.
Every shattered bits of the reality lingered all over the place. My eyelids couldn’t lift themselves to find the will to even let go, but to sit still, to soak broken pieces in disappointment.
Back and forth, back and forth, until your confusion exhausted us.
800 kilometres away, I missed you like the dazzle of the midday sunray spread on my back. The clouds and shades were dispersed by their forces. The oceans seemed to hear my prayers – sending fresh oxygen to my breath.
The unverifiable epiphany of yours rinsed away the dirt of my wounds, getting me to try my damnedest to press the play button again.
But maybe I wasn’t lucky enough to feel the weight of your patience. And maybe any fragments of your heart couldn’t stick together through thick and thin.
The edges of my heart had lost its shape by being ground by the misprinted truth and disguise. The path of time chased me to a nutshell where I could somehow picture that dreamy reality, and even now, pathetically, sometimes I repeat it in my head.
The unexplainable stays silent and the untouchable keeps calm.
But our belief couldn’t recant itself for it is the real wholeness – the favourite – that we both witnessed.