what would i say to you, i dream.

sometimes i hear you playing a song for the crowd, one they've never heard because for years you never had the confidence to try it. but i'm there. and i know the song. and my hands shake but they're under the table, or in my lap.

sometimes i'm talking to somebody. an old roommate. an old girlfriend. a new fan. sometimes you see me but other times i am invisible to you, the stage lights in your eyes.

sometimes you notice me and play one of the songs you started writing for me, and i close my eyes, swallow hard, focus on breathing. later i slip out through the door without exchanging a word, having already exchanged enough.

and i'm still dreaming of it, always.