I dreamed last night that you were mine, and you kissed my fingertips and my forehead, and your hair smelled like summertime, and in my dream everything was the way I had always felt that it should be.

But even dreams don't have happy endings, and sure enough, you began to change.  Your eyes stopped seeing me and the summer smell of your hair started to fade.  And then suddenly she was there.  I could hear her ghost in the way you said my name and feel her shadow in the tiny beads of sweat on the nape of your neck and the palms of my hands, dripping onto my hair, my clothes, my skin, down my chest and into my belly button.

And then every thing froze.  The ground frosted over and my toes turned blue, my fingers turned blue, my lips turned blue, and the clocks forgot to move.

So I did the only thing I knew how.  I opened my eyes.