(sorry, this one doesn't rhyme, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯    oh whale, right? Is this even a poem? Who knows.)

I traced the freckles on your face and saw constellations

I ran my fingers along every bump on your arm and every wave on your skin

Your fragile face painted with pained expressions

And your smile, rare, was quick brushstrokes contrasting with the feeling of warm honey it brought over me

Your words were a creation, building the wobbly foundation I walked on

And the way you spoke entangled and tripped me, making me fall straight into your sketched arms

And your eyes grappled me into comfortable freedom that the universe possessed

And then I cried when I reached down to grab your hand

And it wasn't there

But in it's place just mist and air

Because you were never real at all

My fantasies just got the best of me, again.