I dreamt about you last night but I don't remember the dream. There was a burger joint, a few brick stairs, and a hat that covered your face.
I dreamt about you but the dream was about something else. I was contained between sheets the color of the eggshells but infinitely more malleable. I kept switching between his pillow and mine, unsure whose was whose and also if anyone was there.
When I woke up, the clock was blinking, as it has been for several days. The time it displayed was fourteen minutes into the future and it confused me endlessly.