How sweet are these daydreams?

How sweet are these daydreams?

Alina Simu

Sometimes, but only sometimes, for a brief moment, if I close my eyes, I can recall the perfume of her hair, but then when I open my eyes I find myself pulled out of a daydream in which I chase her down the street. In this daydream that I’ve had she looks back at me smiling. She, who is not a hugger, would extend her arms and wait for me to reach her so she could hold me. She would dig her little fingers in my back and rest her head on my shoulder and I’d do the same, smelling her pine cone scent.

I’m afraid somebody will find out what I’m doing in these daydreams. 

Reality is dull since her hand never reaches for mine. I doubt she ever feels like bursting into a field of butterflies when she sees me. And I doubt she thinks of me when she sees the morning sun or when she throws some eggs in a heated pan. 

how sweet are these daydreams 

when I hold your hand

and you hold mine  

I take the long route home so I can think a little bit more about you. My memory becomes foggy, I never seem to remember you completely, but I never seem to remember anyone really. Faceless people are walking down my memory lane. I remember each of them by a distinct characteristic. So you remain my cigarette smoke, pine cones scented person. 

so how sweet are these daydreams 

when I’m your girl 

and you’re… never mind

happy together by the turtles starts playing 



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