Charles Leif Inouye

There’s something strange about the atmosphere,

This thick, almost surreal feel in the air,

But for some reason you can’t quite place it.

She takes hold of your hand,

It feels right. You hold hers back.

Things take their own course,

And for some unexplainable reason you can’t direct them.

It feels so good though.

You’re with her, and you have that sense of commitment,

That sense of closure and intimacy that only comes with a relationship.

Strolling around some forest,

The sunlight, sifting through the leaves,

Gently touching the ground, bouncing off your bodies.

You’re experiencing feelings, that are impossible to articulate.

Yet for the first time, talking to her seems effortless.

You realize there’s no place you would rather be.

You hold her hand, and it slips away.

You wake up.

And when you see her the next day,

You can only remember.