It´s almost two on Sunday and some people are still asleep. Fatigued after last night´s drinking and dancing, doping, singing shouting, smoking and love making, they lie sleeping.
Fast asleep in beds, on couches and divans, on matresses on floors, in the backseats of cars; asleep in the arms of a lover, sleeping alone.
I´m awake. It´s a beautiful day and I dreamt you last night.

I wish I could say it was love at first sight, but truth is I didn´t see you at all at first. Didn´t notice you until you came up to my table and asked me something. Whether it was for the time, or if I had matches, I can´t remember.
I was stunned.
You, sitting on the next table, were so utterly feminine in every way. With your immaculate make-up, dyed hair and groovy clothes, you were a million times the woman I am.
Only your voice and a shadow of a beard betrayed you.
I couldn´t help but stare. What are you, beautiful creature?
A boy dressed up like a girl, or a girl that for some unfortunite reason got the wrong body?

I dreamt you last night. In my dream I stroke your hair, and kissed you. I know from the clarity of the dream that this was not just a wild fancy, but a glimpse of what is to be, one day.

It is the second year of a new millenia and some people are still sleeping. They refuse to accept my kind of love.
Do you?