Dream, Dream

My thoughts get really muddled around you, after meeting you, after talking to you. Just being in the general vicinity of you, zaps and plunges the straight linear of my routine.
A plethoric range of what ifs, a reel of motions, of kinks, of paths take shape and disrupt my head.
It’s not easy meeting you, but I do. I do as I have to. No, there aren’t any obligations, I want to. I want to meet you, and I want to know you.
I give you permission to mess up my head every damn time. I give you permission to grant me scenarios. I give myself permission to make up stories.
If only…If it were… if, if. Ifs and buts and we’ll be gone. There’s no time to be, but I’ll let myself imagine just this once. I’ll dream just this time again.

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