In my dreams I can truly still feel what it means to have you back in my arms.
In the dark you were fully jealous of the world… you slipped right behind me, your chin on the top of my head, your big arms wrapped around me… and the thrill of that touch, the way you lightly smelled my hair, made me think of why I love you so much.
I still love you, and I had to discover it in a beautiful dream… in the middle of my subconscious, my mind wandered and found what it had lost… because sometimes wandering is the solution to find what is lost. And you were there, kissing me so softly, and finally I understood that reality sometimes is tricky, that sometimes everything else gets in the middle of simply loving and my heart may not skip a beat when I see you, but it does when I think of you: the past is the place we truly inhabit, even though we keep telling ourselves to let go.
How can I let go the reality, the only true reality I still know for sure isn’t real? What am I if not a few bones that can remember what it felt to have something on top of them? The memory of your skin is more powerful than the one of your words.
The body has a remembrance indeed, can you guess what it is? While I’m on the beach, I feel my eversalty skin shudder thinking about the warm sand and how you could be beside me, and the thought of that makes me cry more than if you were really next to me.