Sweet dreams and dancing lips
I dreamt of you last night. This phenomenon is not novel; I close my eyes like every other night before, and you’re there. The sun paling compared to your smile and arms ever so wide open to welcome me into them.
At first, I walked. There is something about being excited and how it fights to escape your body when you try to contain it. So my legs picked up the pace, and before you could say a word or two about caution, I whisked you up in the air. I twirled, and you screamed. The words “Drop me” struggled to escape your lips, but eventually, they did.
The beautiful thing about dreaming is you can be anyone, anywhere, and the magic remains, so I take us to a garden. It felt like a movie scene; I’m sure it is a movie scene, but If you ask me which, I’d have no answer. The land was vast; the wind blew your hair in every direction, and you closed your eyes to take it all in. Surrounded by sunflowers, we sit while rubbing our noses together and whispering jokes loud enough for only us to hear. You’re perfect.
I cupped your face in my palm, and you leaned to kiss it. Time passed, and we didn’t say a word, but my arms wrapped around you told a thousand stories. We enjoyed the sanctity of unspoken affection. I picked a flower and placed it on your ears. You were picture-perfect in your white dress in the midst of all that yellow. We stood up to take a walk, and a beach appeared. One step and the garden fades.
Our feet kissed wet sand with every step we took. You placed your hands delicately between mine like the love we shared would scatter if we held on too tight. But we held on still, although lightly, but with the assurance we weren’t letting go.
We stood by the water, where we picked seashells. You pulled me into a hug and buried your face in my chest-it made my insides tingle. I could feel my lips form a large cheesy smile; I hope no one walked into the room then to witness that. You began to sing ‘A thousand years,’ and we swayed into someone’s living room.
The smell of Saturday morning pap and akara permitted the living room. The walls carried portraits of its occupants, but I could not make out their faces. It was a dream, and the closer you are to waking up, the less vivid it becomes. You pulled the curtains, and I could feel the sun’s rays on my face. I knew Brother Time had come to set us apart, to remind me that what we share is nothing but our little fantasy.
We are like two halves, never to be made whole. You are sunrise, and I’m twilight; no matter how close we are to becoming one, we will always be miles apart. In these dreams, we are dusk- a perfect blend of who we are. But even that is fleeting. But these nights when we meet and delight in being who we truly want to be will suffice.
The sun felt a little brighter, and the warmth on my legs tugged me back to reality. I wanted to sneak in one more kiss before life handed me a big bowl of reality for breakfast, but I couldn’t. First, your hands felt like my pillow, and your embrace became my blanket. I opened my eyes, and instead of the elegance that is you, the grey ceiling welcomed me with a cold stare. My brother stood by my window.
“What’ are you doing there?”
“Oh, you’re awake. I wanted to help water your plants. We are having your favorite for breakfast-pap and akara. ” He seemed excited, like that would make it all better. I’ll see you again tonight; I want to show you somewhere in Vienna; until then, stay well.
