I told you once a story

– I told you once a story… do you mind if I? – Not at all…

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– I told you a story once, a story about a guy who used to steal a fruit for lunch. It wasn’t food that he was into, nor was he poor, this little guy. He sought the chance to get on edge, and do a stupid thing, one thing, so he can prove himself alive.

One time, I told you how I broke a heart, and how I asked myself to be excused, for being stupid, not so much, but I was weak, and I was scared, of her and me, but mostly me.

I told you once another story, about what the perfect world would be: with birds, and trees, and ocean breeze, and people living fun and feeling life.

I told you that I loved to dance under the sky. – I love it too, you told me back. I couldn’t help but slide my hand on you, and touch.

I walked you through the alleys of my lightest thoughts and hold your hand in mine, to keep it warm, to make it warm.

What thoughts of yours are crafting my design?

How real am I, if I as you believe am I, can only take the form and shape in utmost parts of your desire?

Why would you think you can describe a human species exemplar with nothing much but stories, learned and told so many times and times.. by you to you.. from mind to mind?