Disconnected dreams about women dreaming. An infectiously lopsided and toothy smile, draped over an imaginary sofa. She's always smiling, these days. The months of weeping snowdrifts and tepid darkness fostered into sparkles. Relationship alchemy. Words raining from strong and competent fingers. Tap, taptap, tap-tap. I reach out and touch her delicately manicured toes from underneath. She laughs, and we speak about sunsets. A pleasant tension. Her brown hair so much more red when the world sleeps. Cheers, lady. "You're the best."

11:31 a.m. - 2020-03-04