Three

(Note: This is probably a crap poem, and I expect it won't convey all that I felt when I was having the dream that it describes. I think that three is probably always a crowd, in waking life. What I do know is that for a few minutes, while I was asleep, I was happy from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes.)

Did you ever see that show
That corny episode
Where astronauts land somewhere and
It's almost like home
And they're not alone?

Last night I dreamed
That I was unironically seventeen
Not old, not fat
Imagine that
And had hair that fell
Right down to my happy ass.

My blonde friend
Could finish things I said
Just like she could read my mind
And when we slept together the one time
Because we were curious and close
We were each other's mirror in the night.

When she found a guy
I won't lie, I thought it was the end
Of the thing that kept us connected
But he was funny and sweet
Swept us both off our feet
And made us feel easy and protected.

First he turned to her
Then he turned to me
It never felt like a crowd, just us living out loud
We circled and burned
A little constellation of three.

I remember someone said
That every star we see is dead
It's just that light takes so long to travel through the darkness
I looked up and saw
Then woke up and it was gone.

Did you ever see that show
That corny episode
Where someone lands in luck from out of the blue?
It's just a made-up fake
Interrupted by commercial break
And only fools and children think it's true.

______



  

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