These people

You have seen people you can barely believe
dream when they sleep.
But they had once been in love,
and once their now clenched hands were spread out,
now to let in another hand, now in prayer.

People you'd think don't know the rain
is just water.
But they had once ran out to every rain
and longed, ached for another body
to share their wetness.

People you barely believe
can hear music with closed eyes.
But they had once lain in a dark room
till the time of night
when their heartbeat couldn't be told apart
from the song
that had just played for the fifteenth time.

People who seem too correct to ever have fought.
But they had once taken wounds, and given worse
and had cried for the ones they had given.

These people who had once dwelt in imaginary homes,
and had dreamt of formidable happiness
unable to think what could possibly go wrong,
now live over translucent children born in loveless marriages,
who receive caresses from unsure hands
that barely trust their existence
like that of their own past lives.

These people would be us,
in some time.