100 Words About My Non-Existent Second Wife

Out of yr cloud with yr mythical short blond hair,
vision Liza had in a dream. You like to dance,
yr smile is quick, unguarded, and my mom loves you.
You work for a shelter, some floaty non-profit; you cry
at the thoughts others don't think, you cry for them.
But at the end of the day we drink wine,
hold each other, sex or not, drift away into dreamsville.

I will never meet you, you only exist in my
wife's subconscious. But I wanted to say hi. You sound
cool. Wherever you are, good luck, don't cry. It's okay.

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