He looks up at me, brown eyes glowing the way mahogany wood does, a slight furrow between them. "What feeling is this?" he asks. "What is this constant smile plastered on my face, this unshakable feeling that, no matter how terribly things end up, I'll always be happy?"
I hold my breath for a moment, pouring through my mind for the safest answer. "It's hope, I think."
He frowns and looks away from me, down to his feet. "Oh," he sighs. "I thought it was love."
"Well," I say, taking his hand in mine. "They may very well be the same thing."
YOU ARE READING
In My Mind's Eye
PoetryIf life is but a dream, I will never achieve lucidity. #6 in Poetry (2/14/2022) Runner-Up in the Metaphorically Spoken category of the Summer Sun Awards, 2016 Cover by Seth Yurchisin (IG: @sjyurchisin Note that none of th...
