For three days after the first (and only)

Dream, I could feel the phantom

Impression of your lips on mine.

The background was darker than a

Pot of calligraphy ink, but your

Face beamed through it all (per usual),

And before I could even give it a

Moment of rational thought, I’d already

Kissed you.

And while it was everything I’d always

Feared would happen—a moment of

Indomitable stupidity—there was an

Undeniable inferno eating at my insides,

One that absolutely refused to be extinguished.

So I kissed you again.

And that’s when the inferno erupted, and

Magma lapped at my organs until the heat

Was unbearable, and suddenly I realized,

Realized that this was all so stupid, and

Even in a dream I was afraid of what you

Thought of me.

I let myself fall back into the inky swamp,

Which transformed into velveted black

Curtains that I wrapped around my whole

Self, until I couldn’t see a speck of light

Radiating from your headlight beam of

A face.

I never did learn what you thought of

The kiss, or me for that matter. I let the

Dark consume me until I woke up, and then

I let a highlight reel of the kiss(es) play

Until I forgot what they felt like all together.