Figment

The ocean awakened
tonight to the rhythm
of the high tide and
the stars blinking away
sadness, driven by a sickle-
shaped moon that wasn't
even there before.

As though appearing out
of nowhere, our shadows
waltzed ahead of us.
I could smell impatience
and passion dangling,
hovering restlessly in the
sky - thick with the salty,
Spanish air.

I was nothing more than
a fool; an imbecile
for having followed my
senses alone tonight.
But you whispered that
even fools have hearts
and I long for the day
I'd come to believe you.

What if I didn't exist?

And that I am merely
another lie; a distant dream
that would end up breaking
your fragile heart when
you learn to open up
your eyes again?

Would you--?

Your eyes watered from
the strong lapping of
the cold wind against
our shivering bodies.
I thought you were
going to use that excuse
to leave me, yet you
remain nonchalant
by my side.

And

I wonder if this could
be real or an illusion
mimicking slivers of
my dreams.

Somewhere, a clock
struck midnight and
I hear you whisper
something reminiscent
of an unopened rose -
soft, sweet, surreal.

What if I do not exist?

11/01/12