strange.

you once told me
fire at my feet
and i told you back
and water in my toes
that closeness is a virtue
i am feeling the smoke
and so we embraced
and i am breathing the rain.
if catharsis is cleansing,
you smiled a bit
why do i feel wronged
this strange, fleeting world
by nothing, by something
is at your toes.
is, at the most, a dream.

so if this is a dream,
i can singe the sun,
and collapse in a heap
and dream of you and dream of me.
or dream of you dreaming of me.