I misspelled your name and found the word.
It was real: the kiss.
I felt the soft… the moisture behind your upper lip.
The weakness behind my chest,
the empty in my stomach.
You asked why I didn’t do it sooner.
You kissed me again.
And it was real: this kiss.
You reached for my right hand,
our fingers interlaced, your left hand.
Then we walked.
The worn wooden planks, discolored
like the sky above the unfamiliar boardwalk.
I sensed the sand of the beach made white by the night.
I felt where the sand touched the discolored sky.
The beach of white reaching for blue hues.
The ocean between them trembling in waves.
I felt where our hands touched. It was real.
I counted the tangle of our fingers. Your soft palm,
the moisture… but I knew.
So I squeezed until I woke up. And I woke up.
My hand was empty.
I misspelled your name and found these words.
It was a dream but it was true.
I felt where my hand touched my sheets of blue hues.
I trembled, sensing the ocean between us.
The girl in my dreams.
I never kissed you. I never told you.
But I want to.
Wish you knew.
Words are true.
They’re for you.