and as we sat beneath the dazzling sky
wishing upon constellation after constellation,
our hearts exposed and our fingers barely touching,
you whisper “we are alive.”
and I chuckle, knowing what you meant:

knowing that you are just as astounded as I
that we just so happened to meet
and that we are sharing the same air
and gazing into the same open universe
despite this moment being minuscule in the entirety of time.

and I whisper back “but are we living?”
a question that has haunted me day after day
a question that most will brush off.
but you turn to me,
your green eyes burning into mine
and you smile, knowing what I meant:

knowing that nothing in this world is as it seems
that it’s possible this is all a dream
and that your vision of me is nothing but  
and the rustling trees are merely empty sounds
despite my gentle touch grounding you to the earth as we believe it to be