Alternate You

When I translate my dreams, there is not one millisecond that you are not in them.

When I count all the traumas and all the ghostly feelings of reminiscence in my deep slumber I relive them.

I don’t remember your face now but I promise you that in my dreams I could count every single one of your eyelashes. I would know which strand in your hair curled just right and which one spiralled down in a fallen wave.

Yet when reality is a fingertip away I don’t believe you ever existed. When I walk the streets of this tainted universe I don’t recall when we walked in it side by side.

But trust me when my eyes are closed, you are there reaching for my hand and I can feel the uncanniness of yours grasping mine.

When I am in my mental and in my physical the condition of your happening never occurred nor were we ever acquainted or befriended, I simply think it’s because you did not matter that much.

But my subconscious tells me it’s a lie when you visit me at night working nightmares in my head and into my dreams.

I recall one Summer night as it was a predicator to reality that it was years since we knew of one another but you saw me and followed me as I hid.

But even as I hid you found me regrettably so, perched up beside a lonesome car. You squatted…