I am magic and soon I will fly to the portal of all Dreams, and I will be the victor of the soothsayers

When I sleep it’s filled with dreams, things with only him and me. Time is meaningless, oxygen is pointless, endless, no reason for worry. We skip on silver waves, that threaten to swallow us, but we smile, and laugh and pet them with the pads of our heels, and taunt them with the touch of our toes, skim over water like clean, safe sand.

When we kiss, it’s hungry and full of want that is silent and insinuated. I want him like oxygen in a world where it matters.

Soon I sink into the waves and drift back to shore without him. Water rains forward and bathes my ankles with moisture. You can see out for miles and miles. The water looks gray and the clouds seem to melt from their height and into the violent sea. I can’t see him in this mess of color--

Only . . . I can feel him here.

Thunder claps from somewhere in the distance and I can’t bring myself to care. I can’t bring myself to even move. If the shore would just stretch a little further, it could get me, it could have me.

I can see him walking out of the water. Glowing and stronger. His board is in one piece, and he drags it across the sand toward me, droplets of water sliding over his face, tanned and not pale at all. He lets it fall behind him and kneels down beside me.

I ask him where he has been, and he laughs at me, he says: "Your going mad, you saw me- I was surfing, that’s what you do. You surf before the storm comes. That’s when the best waves come."

He will grab my hand and drag me into the water, but this time, he’ll be the one coming out alive.