Monday, September 29, 2008

in my dreams last night

2 and a half years ago

The air is cool at night, still, and even in the shadows during the day. But in the direct sunlight it is hot, and I sweat a little under my arms and where my backpack straps hang on my shoulders. My skin is starting to darken. I like it better when I am not so pasty. The sun on my face feels so good. I like pushing my hair completely off of my cheeks and forehead to expose my naked skin in the face of the sun. I love doing it in the middle of the day, on the mall, while I stand next to the cacti garden in the grass. The skies are always a perfect cyan-blue and just one or two clouds rest in the sky like stretched-out cotton balls. I close my eyes and throw my head back while I breathe in deeply. I stretch out my fingers. I can feel the summer rays warming the tiny brown freckles on my nose. Then a quiet, refreshing breeze picks up my delicate, white Mexican dress, hecho de mano, and blows my short, brown hair all over my face. Brown like my wooden desk, like my café eyes, like the tiny freckles on my nose. My bangs get caught in my eyelashes. And I smile, then peek at the sun.
I did that today, and thought: maybe Chris will walk by and say Hello to me. You did in my dreams last night. You found me in my dreams and hugged me. I looked into your eyes. Those eyes of yours, like kaleidoscopes, twisting between green, yellow, and brown. They are saucers full of fresh limes, lemons, and honey. And my dreams were so vivid last night, like they actually happened. I woke up missing you, and thinking about your eyes. This is how I started my day today.
So I stood there with my hands sprawled and face smiling into the sun waiting for you to tap me on the shoulder, waiting to hear a spoken Hello. And I thought: well maybe I will see him later because it’s Thursday and I think you have a class on Tuesdays and Thursdays at four like I do. Because sometimes I get to see you in the afternoon right up until class at four and you are always too far away from me to say Hello. I know that you see me, too. But you don’t stop and wait for me to catch up, you just keep walking, Chris, you keep walking away from me and pretend that you don’t see me even though I know you do. You walk away from me and won’t even say Hello. You won’t even acknowledge that I exist. And you just walk away and won’t even wait for me to catch up and I’m just left with more wanting, more silence. You won’t even say Hello. I just want to say Hello. Or a tap on the shoulder.
Last week you wore a green collared-shirt. I could see you buildings away. I always liked it when you wore green. It makes your irises look like fruitful marijuana buds.
But I guess a dream is just a dream, and something broken and left in the past just can't be restored in the future. Like an old building made into a museum. Just dead things there to look at, not to be alive anymore in real life.

1 comment:

emmapeelDallas said...


This is very beautiful, and so very sad...