Last week, I had the strangest dream.
Where everything was it exactly how it seemed,
there was a version of me,
that I've never seen.
And you were there,
with those cigarettes you always smoke.
We danced, the way words do on your tongue.
It hit me just like a bullet from a gun,
I loved you in that moment.
Then you got pulled away, as if you were light as air.
You left me as if it was the easiest thing you've done,
And you were gone, just like that.
Good thing it was just a dream.