Dull days, coloured dreams

Dull days,
colourful dreams,
it’s all there is. I wrote
a poem one late night
after a long silence. Next
evening we talked on phone
and while we talked he started
to daydream about us and how
he would like to get a job giving
good money. “We will become
well off” he told me cheerfully.
But I asked him “when will
you then have time for me”,
and he laughed, as if he
thought it will never be
like that for us…
Or something…
But I didn’t laugh.

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