Reverie

An insurgent breath, recoils, trembles, returns, swallowed back up by my greedy lungs

          as the train deafeningly gallops into the station,

                                                                                                and my eyes flutter closed.

                                                                I float delectably, daringly close to danger, suspended.

Do you want to know what the secret is?

Sometimes I do not feel real.

                    It arrives as a pleasant surprise when my heart instinctually begins to pound,

                                                when the counterfeited bitter wind stubbornly tosses my curls,

                                        when I encounter a thousand crystalline kisses falling from the sky.

I shiver, and I smile.

Sometimes I do not feel real,

but tonight I most certainly do.

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