I dream about his hazel-green eyes.
About the way he made me cry.
I dream about the way his hand fit perfectly in mne.
How I never could understand why.
Dreams are created from this dirty blonde boy.
I know the crinkle by his eyes from the laugh that was joy.
His laugh created an echo in my dreams.
Filled with his voice smooth as cream.
I dream of the happy dreams.
Knowing he never was what I seemed,