I met her in a dream this morning.

We must have been college students.

She had dark hair, I think.

Working on some project or another,

I thanked her for helping me.


And she, leaning at my shoulder,

As I sat at table or desk,

Drew near and our lips touched.

Not a kiss, wet and passionate.

A touching.



A moment of wondering.

My hand touched her arm.



Then she was gone.


Awakening, I remembered life,

New and fragrant with possibility.

When friendship may have been love. 


I wonder what she would think of me now,

after all these years.

Would she remember?

Silly old man.

I only met her this morning,

In a dream.

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