I Dreamed I Was in a Bookstore with You

I strolled among books in a place we once shared some moments, and my spirit felt yours among volumes of poetry.  Can the energy of you– us– be contained to a place? 

I wonder. 

And I imagine you are here and without hesitation and in one fluid movement, your forward steps and raised arm reach for me and you place your fingertips on the back of my neck as you gently comb them upward through my hair and you pause looking me in the eyes like you might kiss me but you don’t.  Your hand cups the base of my head like one might a small child and we dance to the tune of “Dance Around the Room with Me” like we had done many times before but this song we’ve never heard before and the music turns up at the chorus like it’s our song, forgetting we are in a bookstore. Forgetting we ever parted. Forgetting time.

As we stop dancing, you take one small step back so that we stand face to face with little distance between our arms’ embrace. Your eyes lift mine to hold your gaze and I relax my head in your palm and I know everything’s going to be okay…

“Ma’am?  Are you looking for something?” 

I’m startled by the salesman as I’ve perused to the front of the bookstore, not remembering how I got there.  “No,” I answered with a far away stare as I faced the man but looked through him like he was a ghost.  

I hurried through the checkout line and placed my items on the counter.  The same salesman made small talk as he checked me out.  I nodded and smiled out of politeness but didn’t hear a word he said.  

I was sure I’d shed off my grief-stricken heart once I made it outside of the bookstore.  I walked the parking lot to my car where the overcast sky with its grey hues mocked me.  The world became cruel that day when I realized I was trapped between two dimensions.  I was a ghost too, wandering between a dream with and a reality without you.  

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