The Real World Flips

As the night fell, the real world flipped upside down. Bodies in motion slithered across the surface and with a yawn, slid toward sleep. The moon followed soon after, resting in the shallow bedding of the sea. We kept our minds open and hearts active, unable to make light of the situation—how by morning, our separate travels would carry us beyond this place of coexistence. Thinking toward this time, emotions arrived from behind our veils and became threaded through our spoken line of language. You diverted your attention hoping it would distance the reality of tomorrow. Wanting to hold on to our final frames of time, I watched you let your eyes float upwards. Struggling to see, you sighed and finally had them fall shut, having tried to see through the mist of memories. I laid in wait, listening for the sound of your eyelids pressing open. In between the silence of stillness was the light touch of serenity. I felt myself close to you. Which intensified the necessity to remain wakeful. Held high above my eyes was the soft push of dreams—ready for the very motion of myself having successfully become swayed to sleep. But I did not move; too alert to be deceived. I had become attached to our positioning, fearing how it could be pulled away from me if I let myself fall under the conscious world. I did not mind the presence, which I assumed. It felt brand new being inside the moment and not suspended in thought, far behind where the heart is beating.