Walking the halls of an empty building,
Devoid of nature, of feeling, of life.
The beat of my feet,
Steady, my own personal drum.
I was not aware that I was moving,
I was not aware that I was living.
My existence, but an iota of a spectacle,
Of a story.
Had the Fates cut the lifeline of my being,
It would be no different than
The drying of a creek bed,
The fading of an echo.
A means to an end.
Time ran away, hand in hand with reality.
I stopped, suddenly tired, and curled up into a ball.
And when I opened my eyes,
I was back again, concrete,
A piercing beam of sunlight hit me in the face,
I blinked, spots of grey and black dancing before me.
An overwhelming smell of grain and heat filled my nostrils,
I looked around, an unfamiliar location.
A place, perhaps, of some notoriety.
I wiped the sweat from my brow,
Dripping down the sides of my face and into my mouth,
Before stumbling into the monoculture of wheat,
The scratchy stems of wheat cutting into my skin,
Etching ever-lasting tattoos.
Over a hill, there was a little creek, a cute cottage,
Painted blue and green.
There I stood, on the precipice of materiality,
And a hand touched my shoulder.
A sweet voice, soft, lyrical.
I turned around, and stared into the eyes
of a beautiful boy.
Tousled hair, bright eyed,
Red rosy lips.
We stared at each other,
Exchanging silent words,
And he took my hand,
Pulled me into a tight embrace.
Synchronous breathing, and we became
What’s down there?
He hugged me tighter, steady heartbeat
Echoing in my ear.
Is this real? Is this my life?
Could this be my life?
He stepped back,
And I saw the amusement,
Glittering in his eyes.
You didn’t choose this.
We held out trembling hands,
Two hearts, two beings.
So close, yet so alien.
Do you wonder what could have happened,
If you did?
A kiss to the cheek and he was gone,
summery voice fading away,
over the hills of rolling gold.
Do you wonder?