seven daydreams

i.    i tell you and ramble and you cup my cheek with your right hand and grin. we’re outside. the air is cold. you are warm.

ii.    i’m sitting on a kitchen barstool and i’m four years old. the granite smells like lemon. breath is easy and my grin is sticky.

iii.    i’m hanging halfway out the window of a Ford Fiesta as my best friends drive. we are accidentally in Georgia. backseat by Ryan Beatty is playing.

iv.   a phone call, quiet words, a long trip, apologies. 

v.    after running a mile east and another mile back, i sit by the water. the same dragonflies keep me company.

vi.    the air smells like green tea. i’m alone in my room, sitting on my desk. i watch strangers walk by below my window and give them new names.

vii.    standing on the side of the mountain and screaming questions into the many. this time, the mountains answer back.

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