Nightly Daydreams

I often think
We might meet again,
Come across each other on our separate travels
I’ll see you on the street
Or in a café
Hope spewing from my mouth
“is it really you?”

Your lips will answer
turning upward at both ends
a soft hope beckoning

My lungs will pause
in trepidation,
anticipation
My mind will rush with words
But my tongue will bite my teeth.
I will pull my bones together
tuck my hair behind my ear
my eyes learning the curves
of the ground beneath my feet
just to avoid the knives within your stare
and
my heart will sidle up beside yours
whispering a timid hello

I wouldn’t mind the silence
hanging by a thread between us
like a gangly parenthetic
of all the things we want but cannot say.

I do not leave myself to wonder
how you’d piece together my undoing
with just a look
or how you might fall apart an hour later
at the echo of my laughter.

That is a dream
no hope can do justice
no logic can reason with
and I am in no manner
capable of holding in my hands.

It is a dream
I cannot begin to chase after
It takes all of my being to repent its existence

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