Not a reality

The cool ocean water,
Rushes in to meet the sand,
Seagulls circle overhead,
Shrieking with glee.

It is early still,
We are the sole people on the beach,
His arm holds my waist,
Pressing me against his warm body.

We walk on,
Our feet sifting the sand,
We stop and he holds me close,
I am secure in his arms.

It is hard to describe,
One's beating heart,
Like a pounding rhythm,
Vibrating the soul.

His lips and mine meet,
And they rejoice in dance,
A feeling of utter bliss,
As our bodies touch.

But it is too good to be real,
For soon he begins to fade,
Slipping away,
To become only a fantasy.

Not a reality.