I grow tired and place my head
down in his lap, looking up at him.
I worry how he will receive this action
but there is nothing to worry about because
he smiles at me as if this were our normal routine.

And to my surprise, he leans down over me
and he kisses my forehead sweetly,
just the way he used to when he was almost mine.
And even more surprising, he leans down again
and kisses my forehead again
and then again
and then once more.

All around there are murmurs of confusion
as no one has seen us this way in a while
but we pay them no mind because we
are stuck in this moment in time.

--
He grows tired and places his head
down upon my lap, looking up at me.
He does not worry how I will receive this action
because everything is too perfect for words right now
and this used to be our normal routine.

And not much to his surprise, I run my fingers
through his hair, tracing over paths I memorized
so very, very long ago.

And I feel myself compelled to lean down and
kiss his lips, but I don't because something is
different, strange, wrong about this situation.

I cannot decide what it is and I do not care
because I have him here and everything is beautiful.

And just before I lean down to press my lips to his,
He is gone and I?
I have opened my eyes.

And I think to myself with a smile,
*what a wonderful dream.