children feeding ducks

stumbling through questions beyond the phone. I keep seeing you in my dreams. you were visiting my island home, another adventure we had contoured for the future. we drift in a raft on the river, pass the children feeding ducks. a little like us; blissful and oblivious to the consequences of what we do and all the time we spend. you get a haircut and enjoy me when you want to. I can't tell if it's a disguise or more calculated; a spark to resuscitate the validation of half-buried infatuations. they never lie for long. I'd let them fly to you if only I knew.

but you escape around the corner in the afternoon sun. the river drains into dusk and you're gone. some new reason for distance and time. I swear at my uncle over dinner and upset the virgin Mary hanging in the hall. my parents are speechless and I too can't find the words to fit the shapes you've taken from the sense I need to make. the clouds aren't any clearer when I wake.