Gontse Dube's poem is a tiny conversation between two things that usually live only in the mind: a wish and a fantasy. The wish asks the fantasy what it wants most, and the answer is simple and a little sad: to be real. Then the fantasy turns the question around. When it asks the wish the same thing, the wish says, "me too."
What makes the poem work is how quickly it shifts. At first it seems like a game, one imaginary thing quizzing another. By the end, it feels like longing. Both the wish and the fantasy are stuck in the space between imagining and having, and neither can get out on its own.
The speaker doesn't tell us how to feel, but the mood is quiet, wistful, and tender. The short, plain lines make the confession land softly. There is also a hint of comfort: the two are not alone in wanting the same thing, even if that wanting stays unfulfilled.