Menthol Dreams

I had this dream about you.

We were sitting on the hood of your car in a

grocery store parking lot, you

were apologizing for all the shit you did last summer and

you wouldn’t let go of my hand.

You had a pack of menthol cigarettes on your lap and

you were pulling them apart, one by one.

You kept looking at me

as if you expected me to disappear.

It was the first time I’ve ever seen you

vulnerable.

Maybe our minds play tricks on us, maybe

they show us another life.

I like to believe that,

at least.

That somewhere,

we’re on the hood of your car.

Somewhere,

you’re afraid to lose me.