Inception

I'm still there, my heart frozen in the very instant when the earliest beam of light started to caress your unshaven sleeping face. I wanted to melt into the sun, to be part of it, so that I could reach you and brighten your sorrows; but I couldn't dissolve myself into the air and my corporeality kept me away from you. No one's to blame but the immutability of the flesh. I cannot tell how long that transcendental moment lasted. Time was no longer running, not even walking. Clocks momentarily ceased to kill us and the Parcae put off our execution. At some point you opened your eyes and I closed mine, pretending that oasis of truth had never existed. I felt the warmth of your gaze or, maybe, I just made it up. What if it never occurred? What if I just dreamed you? But then I also must have dreamed me. Is that even possible? When did we wake up? Am I awake now? Because I'm still there, always there, my heart moved by the tenderness with which the sun kissed your vulnerable silhouette; my body craving the release of your touch; yours, petrified, so close to me and, at the same time, so fucking away as now.