warm strangers

lovesick

occasionally

i wonder if he thinks and dreams about me as frequently

as i do him

it's cruel of my brain,

i think, 

to force me to unconsciously fantasize

about our chests pressed together,

clad in prom-wear,

lace to tie

the utopian fantasy comes to an abrupt

end,

ceasing our swaying movements

and naming us strangers

again

the fire place 

beckons me, a daily ritual

but i'd easily trade that warmth 

for his

does he long

for my warmth as well?