Here; In a dream.

Soft finger tips, grazing my legs, and tequila shots in the dark, peonies all pink and red and careful like your words, underground malls, static on the television, staying up too late and dreaming all day long, dreary afternoons, felicity for the day regardless of the time of year, is it a you or is it a me, doubt and maybe positive thinking really does work? Maybe the universe really does answer our questions when you look out to the sea and ask, and maybe someone really is listening, but probably not.

Towering, golden candle holders on the fireplace for decoration with no candle inside, nothing scented like the softness of your eyes and sweet like the taste of your tounge while we danced on that floor so many months ago, and I remember why you can’t stand me, all selfish and awful and regretful, and I get it, I get it, I do, but I wish it wasn’t true.