Maybe I Don't Exist.
Last night I met the girl of my dreams
chestnut hair waving down to her breasts,
which were full and smooth like the rest of her skin
Skin is the sexiest organ.
We molded hills into each others backs with seizing shocking grabs of fingers
circled round bellies with light fingernails kissed thighs to tense thighs
chest to chest mouths to ears all we hear is our own breath leaving a different body.
My own mind leaves me and I am free free free.
We both are, I think. We join then escape.
And in our separate flights we fall asleep.
Today
I'm standing on the street and she passes in the back of a car
and I stare at her and she stares at me
and I can't help wondering
which one of us is a dream.
chestnut hair waving down to her breasts,
which were full and smooth like the rest of her skin
Skin is the sexiest organ.
We molded hills into each others backs with seizing shocking grabs of fingers
circled round bellies with light fingernails kissed thighs to tense thighs
chest to chest mouths to ears all we hear is our own breath leaving a different body.
My own mind leaves me and I am free free free.
We both are, I think. We join then escape.
And in our separate flights we fall asleep.
Today
I'm standing on the street and she passes in the back of a car
and I stare at her and she stares at me
and I can't help wondering
which one of us is a dream.