I'm Sorry I Woke Up

 I dreamed of you last night. 

I had gone to pick something up at the small grocery store across my house. Suddenly, dreams being far more entertaining than real life - mine, for that matter - the unformidable store was no less than an high class party club. People were fairly well dressed, and I could hardly spot anyone who I thought was not somehow attractive. Still... I picked whatever it was I had gone over to get, and as I was leaving, I noticed you there, arms crossed against your sleeveless shirt, short jeans, beautiful dark hair resting over your shoulders... And your faint smile as you checked me out, hoping, or at least I thought, that I'd go over to have a chat. 

I walked over to you, but I never spoke a word. I thought it would be wise to respect what had been settled in the past... Respect the dead, isn't that what they say? I suppose it counts for feelings too, don't you? It doesn't really matter if they're dead or not, once they're buried. 

But maybe something's happened. Maybe we ended up in one of Poe's never written tales of horror. Maybe my feelings, or perhaps yours have managed to crawl their way out of their tomb... because in my dream, as I walked over you, it was you who stepped in my way. You were so stupid to have done so. Senseless. Driven by emotions. I loved it.

- Are you okay? - You asked. I lied. You didn't buy it. 

We found a small green marbled water fountain hidden in a garden which seemed to have been built up by Tim Burton himself. A dark sky covering a gritty goth like marbled mausoleum surrounded by dead cold plants. And I loved each moment of it, just because we sat on two marbled seats, staring at each other. 

I wasn't too happy when something woke me up just as our conversation was starting to get somewhere. 

I reached for my cell phone. Found your name. 

I typed "I woke up. Sorry."