i just awoke from a dream. you were in it. we were sitting at a desk. you were supervising me as i did some sort of geometry puzzle. i couldnt get the pieces to line up as the instructions said they should. i was very discouraged. i asked you to help me, and you said you would. i decided to move on to the other homework we had. you said ok, ut to keep trying as it feels liberating if you can get it. we started the history homework. your birthday was in a week. you were sitting right beside me. i was laying right in your lap. i was talking to you, but reading our conversation in the history book as it happened. the pages were filled with your distinct structure of speech, pink font and all. we were in mid conversation about what i was to get you for your birthday and then the font turned black. i tried going back a few lines to make any sense of it. nothing. it was all history.
im awake now. its raining out. maybe i should cry. i wont though. the beauty of how well created that dream was, leaves me without tears. without breath.
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