The Daydream

The best part of all when one’s sweet on someone is not precisely
that moment when they finally speak to you, instantly or over
the telephone, or most elusively in the face to face sort of
way. Nor is it the actual meeting and exchange of glance
and breath and time, even though one would think this
would be the bull’s-eye… It comes at Solitude’s pace,
in between the hours of the day that require care,
filling in these fissures with a physical, buoyant
light. This moment to decide the where, who,
and when, all directed inwardly for a stab of
self-love and self-loathing. This daydream
makes the possibilities seem glorious,
no matter the improbability of such
a fantasy being replicated by The
Reality. Small bursts of joy go
into the veins, feeding cells
and causing the body
itself to continue
working, if only
to prove that
daydreams
help to
love
all.