In the distance a spark, a flutter.
Eyes close, imagination of wild teens in tall grass, laughing and running a mock.
It is a great day in the sun a, gentle breeze his hands dance and slide on her waist.
She pushes his hands away while fighting for air between laughs.
What are we?
The smell of his cologne. The way he mocks me as he assumes he best me.
I think I am falling for him but I can’t make out his face.
I feel loved by his welcoming embrace. I lay there staring at his eyes which I can’t make out.
There is but a fog over his features who is this beautiful, strong, and kind man I am so comfortable with?
I awake suddenly recalling the reality that is mine.
Dream man let’s meet again, for no lover awaits me in the other plane.
Also no shadow will hunt my heart if someone like you never text or call.