lettres d'amour

I dreamt last night of us making love in secret. I could feel everything from the brush of your fingertips to the feeling of your breath hitting my lips. My mind was conjuring up thoughts like it would have done if I were actually conscious. I remember feeling loved for the first time, feeling sought after. Everything so desperate and young and wrong. My mind making up things I wish for desperately.

I woke up feeling for your body beside me, not noticing the unreality of it all. When you weren’t there my body shot into sorrow and I counted the tiles on the ceiling in order to ignore.