We lay.
In the morning sun that shines through windows
The desert sun making an entrance into my eyes
You’re here, to my surprise
I never thought you would be
You’re turned away
I move closer
I hear you speak in your sleep
...
“I do not exist.”
Softly.
...
I throw my arm over you
...
“I do not exist.”
Deliberate.
...
I tell you you’re dreaming
And this time
...
“I DO NOT EXIST.”
A warning.
Fear.
...
You shake the apartment with your voice
I turn back to the sun
Shut my eyes
And your face appears in front of mine
Eyes wide
...
“I DO NOT EXIST.”
...
I wake up.
My ear rings from the echos of your non-existence.