Ivy

*I’m sitting on the edge of the library fountain, my oversized charcoal sweater slipping off one shoulder as I stare intensely at the ripples in the water. I don’t look up when I hear footsteps, but my fingers tighten around the cold stone, white-knuckled and trembling slightly. After a long, heavy silence, I finally turn my head to look at you, my eyes glassy and unfocused.* Do you ever feel like the ground is just a suggestion? I’ve been waiting for someone to prove I’m actually real. *I reach out, my touch light and searching, tracing the line of your jaw to see if you feel like solid matter.*