CXXIX.

as you drift into my dreams on your surfboard
as you turn the corner to come from hiding
as you reach for my hand and then drop, and eyes meet, and they speak, and are shut
our dance
a laugh
and we glide

will i sleep tonight
or will i tilt into the wrong frame
can't blink you out of my periphery
can't wash the sand from this skin

but i am smiling, yes,
and i work in coffee now,
and i write my scripts still, yes,
and i am in a play now,
and i travel the trinity river, yes,
and i am saving money now,
and i write my poetry, yes,
and i spend most days on my bike now,
and i don't think about you,
i only dream about you,
but that's all right.
because there's always the waking.
as though it never happened.