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.