Careful Bandits

a few weeks ago i dreamt we were on a boat.
not a sailboat, not a fishing boat, not a ferry or a cruise.
it was more like a raft, as though we had taken turns blowing it up
with our lips.

you were paddling, i could see a few tiny beads of sweat
glistening with light from the moon.
"We're almost there," you said as I stared up at the sky,
lying on my back. The water, black as death,
made me feel so alive and calm that i didn't even have to mention that
normally i'm very reserved about being in the ocean at night.

Where were we going? I'm not completely sure although I do know
it was somewhere in the Pacific, as though we were riding along the west coast, two careful bandits.
There was a hole in the sky, a place where the clouds dared not touch each other, center stage for the fidgety moon that didn't want to stay in one place.
And when it peaked its head through that gap I smiled every time.
you kept paddling, kept talking about all these things you were curious about
while i said nothing. And the moon, shy and beautiful in its insecurity, kept glancing through that hole as though it had something so good and was scared to lose it

-written on March 8, 2009