// Kings.

I raised my hand to shield my estranged eyes form the foreign light, millions of miles away. The sun was suspended in the sky; we were suspended in our youth. The soft white rays outlined my fingers and an unreal glow laced everything: the clouds, the mountains, the trees, the lake. Even as I closed my eyes, I knew that the world and all its beauty would pause while I slept. And when I awoke, the glow would resume its presence. The water sparkled a deep blue, a shade I had only seen in a night sky, contradicting the blue expanse that spread above it. Droplets of water decorated our skin like diamonds, and we felt like kings.

This is the moment that lasts forever, even if only in memory. But forever is undefined , and though these are the years we yearn to escape, there comes a time where we would rather sleep and live on in memory, than to face the dangerous perils of growing up.

I wrote this "prose poem" for Creative Writing class. Matt's probably the only one who knows exactly what I'm writing about. Remember that time, Matt? Yeah. It was lovely.