We lay,
Arms and legs intertwined,
A layer of peaceful content hanging among our shared breaths.

I felt it,
So vividly, I thought
I could see the aura imbuing the softness into my heart.

I wondered
If this peculiar ambience of tranquility
Was as clear a sensation to you as it was to me.

Did it
Surround us both,
Engulf us both in a mutual serenity?

I explored
This pleasant pondering,
This comfortable curiosity, until you spoke.

“Ever since I came here,”
You said,
“I haven’t had any dreams.”

This was weeks ago.
And as I ruminate longingly
On this perfect memory

It hits me.
An abrupt, yet elegant epiphany
Presents itself with a graceful spark in my eye.

You didn’t dream,
And neither did I,
Because throughout the seemingly endless days apart from you…

I dreamt of you,
Of being with you,
Laying with you in our own bubble of delicate satisfaction

An escape
That we could savor
With thoughts of gratitude and cautious movement.

And suddenly,
It became so.
The universe came to its senses and brought you to me.

We hadn’t dreamt
Because there was no dream to dream,
It had come true, it was an existing reality.

We were living our dream.

That is why,
When you were here,
We didn’t dream.