Lucid

        Nothing mattered, and maybe even you and your girlfriend got along.  We spent time on the couch, laughing at our usual “What if?” conversations.  Creating a hypothetical future always seems easy; maybe we can make it happen: live in a world of peace, sliding keyboards, renewed outdoors, and pocket projectors.  I believe in the power of ideas.  The curiosity of the dog never ceases to catch my attention.  Turning his head to the left and right at things he doesn’t understand, things so unnatural he probably never will.  He learns of our world as I try to learn about his, sharing ideas through a lack of verbal communication.  We speak through love and play, never an ounce of anger or animosity.  Happy with Kibbles N Bits, he puts us greedy humans to shame, as he slurps loose beer up off the floor.  He asks for nothing more than attention and even that is sometimes hard to come by.  Spending hours alone in his cage while everyone tends to other obligations wears on him, and when Dad finally gets home he is innocently destructive with excitement.  He radiates love.

         Anyways, back to the dream.  Your facial hair was longer than it is now, but neatly trimmed (balancing between rugged and manicured).  Sitting on the stoop, you handed me a Marlboro Menthol, and we shared smoke on a strangely warm night.  The lack of humidity convinced me that we were some where beyond air.  Our words take us places, and we finally admitted that we get along better than most others, with minds that merge and diverge in all the right places.  It wasn’t eventful, but we learned about each other and happiness.