The real things

 I know you like the real things and the real touches and the real details, but who says what is really felt by real if not ourselves. When a dream is so vivid that you can feel the touch, didn't you feel it like real? When you close your eyes and imagine us floating together on the Dead Sea, leaning our head on each other's shoulders, isn't it the most real thing in that moment? Can't you see it? Can't you feel it? Without having to touch it even. It's so much that it becomes palpable, a solid thing, a whole monument, just is.

I know, you said it before, I imagine too much, I wander in things that aren't real.