In this hypothetical universe, glass
  does not compose my body. I do not shatter

as I wade through violent currents rushing toward
  sculpted oceans. Instead, I am like these waters,

bleeding out progression in waves. Perpetual
  movement here cascades effortlessly, and rest lies

as a forgotten dream that has collapsed
  under once fallen skies.

In this separate world, she stays. Showers
  of abandoned petals never pour down. The strangers

do not pierce the coloration of our unfolding stories.
  With curious innocence and her auburn hair as a waterfall

over the stone edge of my shoulder blade, she asks
  if we would be together in other universes

if their existences were infinity. I tell her
  what cannot be measured can sometimes be

the most beautiful answers left unsaid. She lavishes
  unspoken affections in the collision

of our undivided lips, the unraveling stillness
  that penetrates the complexity of liquid shadows

under the alluvion of purple moonlight. Never did
  the present embrace us more than in that midnight blossom.

In this altered reality,
  I am someone else.