Don’t worry if people think you’re crazy. You are crazy. You have that kind of intoxicating insanity that lets other people dream outside of the lines and become who they’re destined to be.
I had a dream about you. We were dissecting love like it was a frog. You were squealing, I was squeamish, and Professor Warmwind was breathing down my neck.
I had a dream about you. You were a cumulus cloud that looked like you, and I was a sky gazer waiting for you to get naked and rain all over my sunbaked body.
I had a dream about you. You sold Tuesdays to factory workers on Monday mornings. You had a good thing going, until I showed up with a vender cart stocked full of Wednesdays.
I had a dream about you. I was a small business owner, and you were also a small business owner. The difference was I was a sole proprietor, and you were a midget.
I had a dream about you. You were a her named Penny, but you were even more worthless than a cent. And I was a businessman who owned coin-operated used bubblegum dispensers.
I had a dream about you. I was drinking a cup of coffee, and you were a cup of coffee in the process of taking over a man. I thought I was consuming you, but you were conquering me.
I had a dream about you. When our talks ended, we left off with leftovers. I stuffed our conversation in Tupperware, but you just left it out to rot and decompose.
I had a dream about you. I had an erection the size of your nose, though I could breathe through mine while yours was congested. The air smelled like pee to me.
I had a dream about you. You were in love with me, and I only had eyes for you. Of course, I had other body parts to offer you, one long on in particular.
I had a dream about you. The sky was overcast, and my mood was gloomy. Then you walked in. You were a breath of fresh sunlight, and my lungs immediately caught fire.
I had a dream about you. You were naked and frightened. We were in the belly of the beast, and I was dressed like a football mascot, so that’s why we were eaten.
I had a dream about you. I’ll bet you are a much better lover in real life, and I hope your prices aren’t as high as I imagined.
I had a dream about you. We laughed, and laughed, and laughed, like little kids, only we weren’t kids, we were just little. I think the technical term is midgets.
I had a dream about you. The setting was upsetting. We were in hell where I was a prisoner and you were a guard. You reported directly to Satan, who reported directly to Congress.
I had a dream about you. We made love like a couple of armless unicyclists. You asked if I had protection, and I responded that I brought two neon orange vests.
I had a dream about you. I was a used car salesman, and you were in the market for a new horse. I suggested we both compromise, and meet in the middle—like the year 1950.
I had a dream about you. We made love in short bursts, like sound bites, and you left teeth marks—or denture bites—on my mannequin-like body.
I had a dream about you. You were the voice of Michael Phelps, and I was an Olympic swimming pool. You speak sexier when your words are wearing Speedos.
I had a dream about you. You were lost in a daydream, when I walked in and you began screaming. But I know that could never actually happen. In real life I only enter people’s nightmares.
I had a dream about you last night. The best day of my life was when I taught you how to juggle, but the best day of yours was when you taught someone else.
