Everything is imaginary/fiction.

Dark blue dreams. My feet on the sand, your hands on my waist.
As I laugh, as I run, as I drink, as I live.
A mind with no track of the past, a heart healed.
Hand in hand, connection and imagination.
Sometimes the silence guides the mind and leaves to a place so far away.
I wanna live wild things in the security of a warm hug.
I still want it, though.
I want to feel the spark of excitement, of enchantment, the thrill, the rush. I want get drunk with a kiss, get lost in a gaze. I want the hoping and wondering, even if it leads to later deception.
I’ll write our names in the sand. And stare it with a warm heart. Even if the sea waves will eventually take them away.