I had a dream of you once before I met you, well it wasn't you, but lord did it feel like you.
Funny how in those years after I had that dream did I search the crowds for a man who stood above the rest, broad shoulders and eyes that made my stomach boil.
But in these dreams, your voice is muted and I can't get the hang of catching it, it feels like I'm in a tunnel, you laugh but I can't catch your octaves. Surely if I heard them, I would've fell to my knees.
Ever heard of the knee-trembler? I'm not talking about the *** position, just the way your name sounds clicking against my teeth.  
You fit in my dreams the way I fit in the crook of your shoulder.
Dreams are just made of boys with electric eyes and the perfect ways to say hello.