Fantasy
I had a fantasy recently. But probably more of a day-dream. I barely let my mind wander into fantasy-land these days. I know where that ends up.
I went round to your house for dinner I had wine and was being all grown up for the best part of about five minutes.
You were cooking and I asked about your tattoos and then asked if I could see them.
You took off your shirt (we were in a living room then. Sometimes logistics are not my strongpoint) and I touched the words that were tattooed on your chest and then I cried.
Perhaps it was the crying that made me unable to categorise it as ‘fantasy’.
