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.