your love is a dream

I keep walking
and going about my business,
but I’m somehow lighter
like there’s clouds in my pockets.

I don’t know why,
you don’t even exist,
and clouds must be angel farts,
and you’re an angel.

your face is like candy
and i bet you smell
a little bit like people
and a little bit like flowers.

Is it wrong
for me to think that you’re beautiful,
just because you shared your smile with me?