Even though every touch, every bump on the road, the rumble from the motor, all the strands of his hair, and every single atom of the skin we wore; it all felt real.

I knew I was dreaming.

Deep in my swollen mind; I sighed and held him tighter – half afraid to fall and die: to awaken.

The other half held on because I wanted that fragment of young love between my peach hands.

He was a part of all this; he just knew it was real, while I knew it was not.

The sea teased the sun, and gave me billions of winks as my unknown-known love kept his eyes to the sky, and hands on the motorcycle bars. Even in my dreams I figured the puzzle to waking up was simply wondering why you can see your own face.

Wind kept me smiling; that, and his fake little heartbeat.

This was all to be real;

to keep going till the rays of sunlight hit me on

the other side.