You came into my dreams last night.
It had been a while.
I wonder when comes the moment in your dream-life that you stop dreaming about someone,
When is that moment a certain person stops having any meaning to your life that he fades away,
To the point that even your sub-conscience gives up on him.
Do I appear in your dreams too?
Or has your sub-conscience erased me from your memory a long time ago,
That it has become hard to remember times when we shared drinks and glances?
No, don’t answer that.
What if my dream of you was your way of telling me you still held on to bits of ‘us’ that never existed?
Or what if my dream of you was followed by your dream of me?
Then would you guess that I had dreamed of you first?
Or would you feel uncomfortable knowing that you would be the one paying a visit in my dream the next night?
What if we dreamed of each other on the same night,
And that would allow us to meet again in the dream world?
Maybe share a coffee like we did once?
Would our dream-selves search for hands we never grasped in our past?
Would they lace their fingers?
Would they feel the warmth of their fingertips gently yet violently touch their hearts?
Would they lock their eyes,
Or would we be left stuck into simply another dimension of our past reality?
Would you shake your head and let my tears roll down my cheeks,
Without so much as lifting your hands to hold them, for just a second?
Would you let me feel the coldness of your hands along with the coldness of your bitter words?