every now and then i wake up with the taste of hope on the tip of my tongue, the warmth seeping through my skin. as the hours pass, the vibrant glow grows dimmer, threatening to slip through my fingers. these secrets uncovered to me in dreams make up the hazy parts of my existence. flashes of a greyscale life that only exists behind my eyes. sometimes, if i’m lucky, i catch them in the daylight. alternate realities distort into truth under the golden sun. the warmth tingles under my fingertips, ready to burst. for a moment, no matter how short it is, reality feels like a dream.