I had a dream last night. Even though we are not related I know you.
Like a blueprint of a building we wished to build, but didn’t need to because we can already see the rooms, purple curtains, clothes scattered about the floor.
I dreamt that I had you here beside me even though you are nowhere I can be.
I felt you, the hair on your knee nudging mine as we giggled together, staring at the ground like school kids flirting with forever.
I didn’t want to wake up today when my eyes opened. I closed them tight and tried to go back, reaching for you, trying to feel your warmth.
You weren’t there.
I lay still silent afraid the very breath sustaining me would exhale you further away.
I was safe there in my dream reliving the walk downtown passing people as though we could only see each other. The brevity of the moment drew us closer almost holding hands, gingerly cascading past s=a couple dining, babies crying, we didn’t care.
I am awake now, with the memory of you and a dream like a carbon copy of the most precious moments in a life still moving forward. I take you with me there though we no longer speak. I hear you like an echo from the rolling ocean or the call of the morning dove on the furthest branch. There, out of reach, but alive with me.
I don’t speak your name, but I know you still.
The color of your hair, the way you moved away and then came back like we were dancing a fierce tango when I touched you.
Tonight, for the 365th time I will close my eyes and wait for you illusive and yearning, I will hope for you.
I forgot to tell you I loved you last night, please be there.