Dream Girl
by Elizabeth Moore
Go ahead: say what you’re thinking. You wish
I was prettier. You wonder if, one day,
you might meet someone else, someone better.
Just say it, that you would rather I sip your beer
and smoke your cigar
and rend my body from my self
and forget everything there is to know about knowing someone,
everything there is to know about being known.
I want to shine, effortlessly,
the way your dream girl shines,
and not be so ordinary, as, for example, me.
The crack between my body and my soul widens
and you fall right in.
It is very nice, all the same, to see you
coming to my door day after day,
when no one else has bothered.
The longer you wait at the edges of my garden,
the more I believe I must have tricked you.
After all, no one wants to see the wood rotting on the porch.
No one wants to find their dream girl doesn’t sparkle up close.
As for what you’re actually thinking: think twice
before you fall for your dream girl, especially
if she never opened the gate to let you in;
especially if you are always standing far off,
watching her shimmer like a mirage
dancing and shining in a drought.