Yes, sitting near a fire and telling half-truths.
Yes, hands across a body.
Yes, pulling words from thin air only to send them back.

Yes, death on the line. Flights, and you don’t know how to fly.
Yes, eyes to the stars. A woman important because of a nipple.
Yes of course, eating and sex and all the land-wise pleasures.

Yes, blue on purple, on magenta, on orange, on yellow, on white. Sun plunging into ocean.

But the rest of it?
Dressing up to play somebody.
Arriving to wait for another arrival.
Not so much.

Yes, tornado watch from the wing of a plane.
Yes, hand bitten by a disagreeable dog.
Yes, shins scraped by a forgiving reef.

Marching into an agreement – not so much.
Gathering under a steeple? Nah.
Slaying dragons where there are none? Blah.

Meeting a story you’ve heard before – slow demise into please me with more stars.

More fires.
More testy dogs.
More circumstances making sense from the last.

An end to moments favored. More gratitude for that.
And awaiting the next dazzle – yes.