As We Sleep

September 24th 2023

My eyelids flicker as I wake to a tickle upon my skin; a honey bee resting for a moment on the bridge of my nose. I scrunch and the bee gracefully takes flight, disappearing into the wildflowers. I turn my head and see that my book lays face-down beside me, open to the last page I read, and my glasses perch on its cover. My body is partially shaded, the sun still warm upon my face, and I realize that I have been asleep for quite some time.

I dreamt of you as I slept; remembering when you came to this place, tucking a sprig of baby’s breath behind my ear. I remember feeling the palm of your hand slipping into mine, your fingers lacing between my fingers. I remember your bare feet resting against the curves of mine as you lay beside me in the grass. The blooming faces of coneflowers and daisies and purple loosestrife towered over us.

As I stand to my feet, gathering my things, I take a step back. My heart rises in my chest as I look upon the imprint of two bodies, one more defined than the other, in the earth where I lay. I look upward, searching for you along the tree line and on the trails, but am only reminded of my loneliness.

And I begin to wonder if I was even dreaming at all.