Imaginary Boyfriend

You are my imaginary boyfriend. We have never met but I know I Love you. You told Me yourself that this was how you felt The other night as you drank one too many beers. That you were falling hopelssly thru the air, nothing to catch your fall. Your breath caught permenantly In your throat. 

You hold my hand as you walk me thru this imaginary world we create together. We are like avatars blue and capable of becoming anything that pleases us. 

"Is this just about sex for us?" I ask you earnestly seeking your answer. 

"No" you tell me and I believe you, but am suspicious that we are the victims of oxytocin's chemical intoxication. Heady And thick like lounging about in an opium den for hours as the smoke fills our lungs And makes the world outside slowly dissapear And feel pointless. 

We need each other. The kind Of need that is thick and sweet like honey. Dripping down My leg need. The kind Of need that makes my belly ache and my mind spin. We thirst for each other, its unquenchable, we keep drinking but It keeps coming. 

You seem to see me thru special glasses, rose colored ones, imagine I am more than I am. Describe me with superlatives that don't match my jean shorts and missmatched tan lines. I have one grey pubic hair, should I tell you this? A super model who is your biggest sexual fantasy. You feel lucky But I know I am. You make lasagne on a sunday For The week ahead you say. Meet me first and look at My frown lines close up I counter. 

But There is something There between us that goes back and forth. I like you. I like you in so many ways. You work hard traveling the world because you love your work. You will tie me up in bed and watch as I make love to another woman, in our minds, together, all befor morning coffee. We laugh, hard and long. I have not enough hours in the day to devour your mind. And then we drink The coffee. You just the right combination of sexy and requisite geek to satisfy my desires for a brain in bed and not just a body. But you are not here in front of me, you are but an apparation. A ghost. You will disapear as quickly as you have arrived. Return to your family and stop being my imaginary boyfriend.

Today I am flying on a plane to you. Crossing oceans and borders just to touch you. RiskingFlying from my island home of Bali to the big sterile city of Singapore. I will arrive at our hotel and change into tight jeans and heels, casual and just sexy enough. I will walk to a small bar and order a glass of red wine, warm and thick and In the perfect round wine glass It will keep me company as I wait for you. 

You are a stranger to Me. I have never kissed your lips nor have I touched your skin, but I know the inside if your mind. You have seen the inside Of mine. An old friend, a lover, that I have never met. 

I am a sure thing that you now get to devour without hesitation, But first you must drink wine with me across the table. Look at me here I am right in front Of you. No longer a screen In the way.