Dream Girl

I stumbled to the bathroom, trying to remember the fading dream,

Grasped at the remnants in my mind.

There was a girl- this I knew,

and a flute.

I play the flute, but maybe she played it this time.

I could smell its metal, though.

I remembered some bad 80s music, too.

The girl, though, was real- whoever she was.

I crawled back into bed so that I could feel her again,

(I could still smell her- and see those eyes)

but she was gone forever-

the remnants of a fading dream.