And in my dreams you're oh so close. We're in the dark in a room that's neither here nor there. You're laying between my legs, your head on my chest. My hands are running through your hair. Your eyes are closed and I'm focused on touching you. The music always sounds sweeter when I hold you.
I run the same scenarios through my head over and over again.
I miss the touch of you, the touch I've never really felt. The things I'd only admit while inebriated. The things that wonder into my brain in between every gap of thought. I play them out in my mind like a movie. I try to take it slow but my mind speeds to the parts that really matter. I try to imagine the version in my mind compared to how it'd really go.
I can't think about reality right now, so let's focus on the what if's and fictional worlds.
I always imagine you feeling so soft. I imagine playfully touching you. A punch with a laugh. A brush of the knees. Rubbing your back. I could almost feel the buzz in my fingertips.
These aren't about anyone. They aren't.
I image getting a little too drunk and we get a little too close for comfort. That's how it'll start.
