Menthol Dreams
I had this dream about you.
We were sitting on the hood of your car in a
grocery store parking lot, you
were apologizing for all the shit you did last summer and
you wouldn’t let go of my hand.
You had a pack of menthol cigarettes on your lap and
you were pulling them apart, one by one.
You kept looking at me
as if you expected me to disappear.
It was the first time I’ve ever seen you
vulnerable.
Maybe our minds play tricks on us, maybe
they show us another life.
I like to believe that,
at least.
That somewhere,
we’re on the hood of your car.
Somewhere,
you’re afraid to lose me.