To feel your hair.
Only it wouldn't be as simple as that, no.
It would not be so much the feeling of the hair
that would remind me of you as it would that
it remains that it's me, right here, right now,
holding your hair in my calloused and rough hands.

To see you smile.
Lips curl on a shaky highway, making your stomach
do topsy-turvy twirls every time you run across one
of those types of curves. You know the type.
These curves remind you of home, somewhere.

To dream with you.
Because in the waking world we only have each other,
but if we were asleep we'd be together in ways
humanity can't possibly imagine. Life would be too great
for them to handle, and people would be clenching their fists in
agony that they couldn't sleep, to dream.
And you and I would wake, smile at each other (the topsy turvy curves)
and I would touch your hair with my rough and calloused hands (right here right now)
And we would dream the dream again.