I dreamt of your coming long before you came–
dreams of boat rides watching the sun set
while you stood in the prow, wild curls streaming
in the wind. The water under us was dark green
and strewn with flowers, white, red, deep blue,
golden yellow. Then we docked and there was
a party under striped canvas, grilled meat, heaps
of rice, vegetables in every color, and wine, wine,
wine. You filled my cup again and again
before I could empty it, smiling, your mouth
full of silent promises. Later, when the moon
had risen, we sat alone by the river and you fed
me chocolate cake, not too sweet, perfect.
In a few days, this dream will come true.