I dream about her a lot.
I dream about how her lips fit perfectly with mine, and how she looks at me when I sing.
I dream about her iridescent skin and how it reflects the moonlight when I kiss her goodbye, how she worries about me even when I’m right there with her.
I dream about holding her hand, how it awkwardly fits in mine, how it trembles from the cold only to become warmer than me.
Her laughter, her ambitions, her smile. I know them all by memory, and they seep their way into my dreams so I wake up smiling, knowing that even subconsciously I love her more that the moon loves her skin.
I dream about her when I’m eating breakfast.
I dream about her when I do the dishes.
I dream about her so much that it feels like she never leaves my side.
I dream about our future together, how we’ll build a home out of the love we share.
I dream about dancing with her, holding her in my arms so she feels safe and loved.
I dream about her loving me, and when I look into her eyes, when I see the stars she holds and the wonder she’s filled with, I know she dreams the same.