This dream lied.


In my dreams, you
surprised me
with a kiss on my cheek.

It was after homework, pages
upon pages, of useless drivel
that you kiss me
in my sleep,
in this dream.

I was huddled in a blanket;
had there been a fire
at a fireplace; I
would have nearby,
a cocoon against the wall.

But you kissed my cheek
and woke me, and none of
my words could express
what little I understood
how much I wanted that
cool, soft, sweet kiss
on my bare cheek.

In my dreams, you
bade me welcome and
led me by the hand to
your night of blue haze,
soft lights, cool air,
gray shadows, and satin sheets.

There we slept, or tried to sleep,
in my dreams. Here, with your head
upon my chest, I am awake;
while you pretend, with the softness
of your breath, to dream.

But when I wake up,
I pretend
that you did not just waste my time
cos dreams, shmeams, babe:
a flake’s a flake
and you

fucked up.


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