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Imagine,
our names written
on the sand of some
beach in South America,
where our hearts
meet again, never to
get lost again
and tell me if
it doesn't make you
want to be(a)lieve
in forever.

I got your name
written on my skin,
in a language that
escapes your logic,
in an ink that
can't be seen,
nor touched.
But honey, you can't
tell me you don't
feel it.
It doesn't stain,
it doesn't bleed.

Your eyes,
I swear,
I can swim
into them,
and I would swim
for days and months,
and eternity, to reach
your soul.
But you keep closing
all windows, locking
all doors. Are you
scared?

I'm not scared,
nor terrified.
I know in reality
good things don't
usually last
but maybe we can,
this one time.
Let's sail away
from the moon,
and get lost in a
sea of stars.
I know we can escape
reality, if we despise
it enough.

In that moment
still lying by your side,
I swear that as the
darkness corroded the
space between your
soft lips and mine
I felt for a moment
what I would later define
as infinite.

And even though we
are broken sacks of
promises and plans
we can still be.
We can still make
our way through this.

I can still contemplate
all probabilities,
I can see myself tearing
my future apart or
watching you break us.
I can still see us
together with twenty
more years on our
shoulders.
Nothing is definite.
Not yet.

but one can dream