I'd like to go with you

Hello darling. Up in the aerie with a glass of wine, listening to KZE. Dinner is on the stove, a fragrant dish of chicken legs with eggplant, tomato, peppers, and red wine. In a musing mood, reflective, really don't have much at the moment.

The Josh Rouse I Will Live on Islands song came on, and I notice a line, relate it to the book I'm reading, plus page hits from Painesville.

I will see the sun.
The sun also rises.

I consider the phrases together. Long road, optimistic conclusion. I wonder where you are. I have a sense, or vague theory. Actually I have two vague theories, and sometimes they intertwine in a third, overarching theory, the grand narrative.

A Graham Parker song came on too - actually I missed it, I was out on a walk but checked the playlist after - Head on Straight. It's funny, quite a while ago - late September 2008 - I noted a dream about you that that song (which I've heard a few times now) reminds me of.

J is leaving for a long trip. We’re at a ticket counter, arranging for his tickets and documents. I offer to go back to the car for something, there’s time, and J agrees, but disappears and I don’t remember where we parked the car, a lot on either Henry or Hicks, but it’s all very crowded, like Chinatown. We never reconnect…

J is returning from his trip. I don’t think he’s back yet. I’m washing dishes at the sink, and I see that his wallet is on the counter. So he is back. I go into the bedroom, and he’s asleep in bed. Only his face has come off – his head is an empty shell – like he’s a robot. I don’t mind, I try to rouse him. He wakes and is completely distressed that I’ve seen him in this state. He tries to reattach his face but some of the screws are missing. It seems they’ve scattered on the floor in the other room – I look for them, they’re underneath the baseboard heaters, etc.

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I love you, my dearest. Take my hand.