Prism

My eyes were closed but if you would look closely you can see a slight movement which is equally fascinating as it is weird. My body felt limp. But now and then, my legs would jerk in a manner that would not only feel like I am falling but there would also be this feeling creeping up my legs telling my brain to keep moving them. And for what? It's called restless leg syndrome. 

Amidst all of these activities happening in my body, you came into my dream. Your presence in my dreamworld was totally uncalled for but I guess it was just a matter of time for you to show up. Maybe I had been thinking about you or put you way behind in my head that my brain was forced to bring it back up so it doesn't burst out of my head. 

It was a strange phenomena. Somewhere in the universe (we're back there, and certainly, I still don't know much about it), we were floating inside a prism. You were on one end of it (up) and I was on the other (below, one of the sides). We were ricocheting from one side to the other but it was slow. We weren't bullets. We were astronauts. 

I kept looking at you and you seemed far off in your thoughts in the beginning, like you didn't know you were inside and I was there with you, too. Your hair wasn't flowing like usual; your black curls weren't there anymore. Instead, it was a little short, and a little blurry. I hated that I couldn't see your hair for what it was because I remember when you would hug me and your head would be in my face and the particles of your shampoo's fragrance would enter my nostrils and register in my brain for eternity. I don't get to see you anymore in my waking life so maybe, I wanted to fulfil the desire to look at you in my dreams, where you've always resided. 

When we were floating inside, and once you registered where you were and with who, we tried to stretch our hands towards each other. You hoped that this touch would make things more real to you than they seemed, because it definitely didn't feel that way. For me, it was just holding your hand again. Because you see, every moment spent together was an ombré of reality and dream. Not once did our hands meet. 

We were just floating in a prism somewhere in the universe, surrounded by burning balls of gases and in the silence of us, there was this low hum of space. I have only ever read about it but I could feel it. It felt like music without words, without genre. It was outside of the musical realm that we know on Earth. Maybe one day someone will record the hum of space and put it in a playlist about relaxation and meditation. I hope that they don't. I want this to be a thing of dreams. 

Being in the confines of this prism felt like being within the walls of the silence that I had to endure one night after you left. It was dark and I didn't know what to do; but I felt helpless then and now I don't. Now, I am just curious about your presence in my dreams; now, I just want to know if you are okay; now, I want to let go of the residue that your departure left in my life. 

Now, I only have to figure out if this residue bursting from me is yours or the stars'. 

The prism is empty. I'll swim back to earth now.