oneiric

something as simple
and complex
as
her smile

no

the idea of her smile

no

the smile,
her smile..
the thought of her
smiling
at
me
or about
something I said…
and the way it wedges itself
deep
inside the
grey parts of my brain
takes root
digs deeper
and shows no intention of
ever letting go–
well.

I knew from that first syllable
that first laugh
that first time she said anything
or something
that vaguely resembled
my name…
her
saying
my name
on those lips…
with
that tongue…
and inside
that head…
I knew…
right then and there:
she was going
to hurt a lot more than most.

She’s a lot like sunshine
(heat.)
creeping up slowly
(bright.)
before a hostile takeover
that dominates
my entire day,
then
fading away too quickly
at that moment when
I’m longing for her most.

her thoughts.
her touch.
her…
just, every single bit of all of it.

it’s complicated when
we allow it to be more complicated
than it should be,
because nothing is simpler than
the ease at which she
turns my world
on
it’s
side
and annihilates every dream I’ve ever hoarded away
and replaces them
with something richer-
that means something, yes?
that an unexpected phone call
can make me tingle
in parts of my landscape that
had
long be condemned,
left for dead?
how long stretches of daytime
fold themselves over into
night and
leave me hoping for one more glimpse
into what she really is
and praying for enough
oxygen to
dream for another minute or two?
that this feeling
is something shared;
is as organic as it feels;
is so down to earth that
down to earth
stops being a euphemism for
something else entirely…