'Still Here'

I close my eyes and try to imagine a universe where you’re still here;

Where the baleful hands of time haven’t yet grasped at your shoulders

And instead, a year or so could go by with no effect. 

A universe rid of possibility for death, where the hands keep ticking subserviently,

Compliant to the point of monotony and a sort of exaggerated bliss. 

I close my eyes and try to imagine a universe 

Where the laws of gravity don’t yet exist to tell me what is real. 

I can wade through a fire that doesn’t burn, and instead 

spark-speckles like fresh streams of orange juice seep into my skin and 

Invigorate my floating body, untethered 

To no heavy truths, and somehow you’re still here

And your ringleted hair stands on end to crown you like a sun goddess.