We’re on a balcony and I can hear a party raging inside the apartment (that I don’t know but still seems strangely familiar). The moon is hanging in an unsettlingly dark green sky. You light both our cigarettes. We talk about our failed attempts at romance. I watch you as you rant about the last person you dated. Blue smoke escapes your mouth as you stop mid sentence, look me dead in the eye, and ask me “Why are you so scared?”. When I answer “Scared?...Of what?”, the party goes silent. You grin, walk closer to me, lean in, and I wake up.
5/8/20 (21, Montreal, Canada)