In here, I can detect sounds. Muffled crying. Laughter. Music’s gentle thud like the pulse I sleep next to; a clock delicately touching time by my bed. Their movement is my movement. I can even hear their dreams. The soft language of hope and fear.
My consciousness floats in space with eternal possibility.
Arguments flash across flesh. My mood swivels with hers. I eat what she does. Her steps propel me to unknown places. And it’s as if I have already lived a life before I am born. Already fallen in love. Already danced under the stars.
Already familiar with Nirvana.