Imagine Happiness

Must be a good feeling to be happy, I imagine.

And I do imagine. More than most. Like a skittle-charged, fidgety little street child with the attention span of an inanimate object.

But I like it. I like it. I like it. (I do.)

Only the gifted can colour their own world, I always say. Ramble rabble ribble robble.

I’m capable of extremes. But you have to be extreme to dream of happiness from time to time - but, preferably, only from time to time. Those dreams can get a little freaky.

I scan the sea of starry faces to find you, and I can't. Actually, I don’t mind. It adds to the magic. From way up here everything seems so picturesque. So beautiful. So romantic. (So happy?)

Ah! There you are. I've spotted you.

Here, here I am. Clad head to toe in red  like all the others,but with my coverlet of strangely-coloured brown hair tumbling softly down over my neck and right shoulder. Free, free, like my spirit. Like yours. A deep shade of brown about my frame that makes you think of a dying tree in autumn.

Your words are distorted by your accent. But I love it. I love those words. I love you. (You make me... so happy)

I imagine myself afterward in a movie, fixing my perpetually frizzy hair and knocking resolutely on your door, with a fresh bundle of spring flowers and a worldly air. Fast forward about five minutes: and, as I see it, we’ll be rolling around the carpet. On the flowers, actually (it’s okay, they were cheap).

You make me so happy, you do.

It’s not even an erotic thing (the flowers bit aside).

You and the happiness you give me...it seems unreal. Evanescent. It won't last. You’re just…too untouchable. Like an ornate porcelain figure on an unreachable shelf. I really want that shelf.

Still without real focus I ponder you, the shape of your mouth, and imagine your words over and over, bursting away like doves, finding me, and carrying me high above the pain. Carefully you replant me, standing alone in a circular forest of satin green while you sing to me, sweetly, oh, so, so sweetly.

You diffuse happiness into the particles of the air. The room we're in is thick with it. I breathe it. I want it. I wish I could pipe it into my veins forever and keep it like some sweet disease.