Strange as it may seem, here we are. Watching TV on the couch, some nameless distraction nothing really worth our attention. My head in your lap, I'm half asleep. You, of all people, there with a smile on your face.
Some of the words escape me now, but I do remember the good parts. Asking why you smile so, your reply is something silly and off color:no doubt a joke used on my expense. You run your fingers through my hair and scratch my beard. I gently rub your skinny arm.
Strange, this scene of peace and happiness. This tender moment. Because you are not mine, and I am not yours. If this wasn't a dream, we would be in deep trouble if anyone were to find out.
But it is a dream. And some of the best things are dreams. Remembering this one as I do now, I wonder to myself:where the hell did that come from? As I often ask do when I wake up. But I guess I'll reserve this dream to memory. Only in my dream will we be.
Only in dreams.
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