Marie Elena

I think of her often,
living far away,
in a smallish place,
a friend to so many,
all living vastly flung.
I choose to think of her
with a broad smile,
sometimes a loud laugh,
at all times huggable.
I never consider
the possibility of frowns
or headaches,
or any other form of discontent.
It’s my daydream,
and I’ll have in it what I want.