the summer makes of me heat rising to my head - blurs the real with the wished. a bed has grown uncomfortable, perhaps along with us. you are a kayak in my lock. an event we never believed in. you hold a rope to stay afloat in my uncertain waters who rise and fall. i will not let you out - not alive/unchanged. for once those doors open the future passes you away. that is how it works in Mighty rivers. suspicions of where time will take us. or me. or you. hopes that one day i'll be a kayak, too.