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I saw you again. Tonight. It was a harmless nap, an exhaustion of the body after much revision, a comfortable sofa-bed, fans blowing in the humidity of nighttime spring. Dreams, as they are, have little hurtful impact, and therefore we indulge in them, the pleasure derived from the half-conscious control we have within them. Somehow you've embedded yourself in the recesses of my mind, appearing in the most sensational manner when it sinks into stress mode. And I don't experience stress often enough to learn how to manage the memories of you and slowly push them out. No, it's not your fault. I don't know if I can or want to in the first place. Enough time has passed, but.

You were in a black singlet and white shorts, and didn't say a word throughout; all you did was curl your knees to your chest, the armor around your body turning into paper plates and falling off. I asked if you were okay, if you wanted anything, if there was something on your mind. You looked at me and smiled, shaking your head. The world suddenly turned into a supermarket with white walls and shadows for people who didn't seem to notice us. I found myself dashing off to get you something which I couldn't find in the end; don't ask me what it was, I don't remember. All I could recall was coming back for you, and finding that you were no longer on the floor, but curled up at the top shelve, looking down at me and smiling. I could only imagine relief, and returned the smile. Throughout the entire event, there was only silence, but it was comfortable. No, it was wonderful. I stretched my hand forth and reached out for you.

Then my hand phone rang. The tranquility was shattered by a phone call from someone who did not even answer after I picked up. I have the number, but I don't know who called. And I was pissed enough not to return the call.



Even as I write all this, something, someone is watching me from behind.




I hope you're okay.




But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. -William Butler Yeats