I still think about you. I remember us talking in the dark, in the stars, under the stars, in

the moment, over the moon. Your songs are always in my ears and I stare into nothing when the

music starts, wondering what would’ve happened if we were the same as so many years ago, if

you still had blue glasses and crooked teeth. Who knows? I think you say– your dampened voice

sounds like we’re underwater. I told my friends about us a while ago but they don’t know that

sometimes at night I dream so far into reality I can’t tell if my eyes are still shut.

              I think during the mornings some version of you comes to sit on my bed when I get up. I

look at the wall for a while. But I realize everything and everyone is a daydream in the dark of

eyelids. How are you doing after I left? I ask, curious if your mind is already far away from me.

And all you really do is grin and look off to the side.