Reality

In the depths of my dreams,
I see you smile as you reach for a pencil and a paper,
you sit down, gazing ahead, in dilemma,
then finally you make a decision both you and I wish you never made.
Your hand moves on the paper with skill,
and as your reference moves, you stop,
and say a name.
My name.
Months later, in my wake, I wish I could wipe my name out of your head,
in my sleep I think of your smile,
your coal-black eyes,
you as a whole.
Sometimes, when I feel obliged to pray,
I beg the god I know who does not exist,
to make me sleep forever, 
so that my dreams would become my reality.