Laughter.
Laughter that I wish I could hear,
But seeing it in writing has to be enough.
A face.
A face that I wish I could see,
But,
It is a face that does not exist.
Eyes.
Eyes that seem impossible,
Eyes that I want to look into, shining white in the dark.
But,
I cannot.
He is not real,
A figment of someone’s imagination.
Not real.
It’s hard to believe, once you think about it,
He talks,
He smiles,
He thinks.
But,
He doesn’t breathe.
He has no need.
For he isn’t real.
So I settle for staring into
Eyes that do not exist.
Eyes that do not know time,
Or hardship.
And one day, those eyes will be real!
But for now,
All I have to do is whisper.
Brine?
