His thoughts unravel like her ponytail, cascading down his spine. His eyes blink sleep away and as his lids hiccup his brain reflects on the stains of her image that smile murkily back at him. This tugs on the corner of his mouth and he puckers his lips, little pulsating movements as if he is searching for her mouth or collarbone or heart to leave an impression of himself on her. He licks his lips and let's them air dry, they crack and he smiles out loud remembering a time she shared her freshly chapsticked lips with his to punctuate his remedy. He taps his toe to swooshing sound of blood that zips up and down and over and across his body. He pulls a chunk of something out of his pocket, rubs it between his fingers as if it's a crisp one hundred dollar bill, he covers his eyes with it— willing to see its treasures. Slowly he opens it and there she is, diving into her azure eyes he is immediately transported to a time and place that could've would've should've happened if she had just decided to really see him.