sometimes, i
lie around
on saturday
mornings.
and i imagine
myself in
a few years
living in
new york
in a ******
loft with
a beautiful
british artist.
i imagine
that he loves
me and i
love him.
we talk about
art and music
and the films
we want to
see together.

but then i
realize that
i don't want
to spend my
saturdays
with anyone
but you.