futur proche

in my head my daydreams play out like films.

you'll come and collect me, we'll drive up the coast. sun in our hair, feet on the windshield, massive blue sky. waves crashing against the cliffs. your little car on those hairpin turns.

the film is yellowed, the audio hushed and tinny. secrets exchanged and beautiful long silences. you know my demons already but don't care. maybe you won't let me run. i'll be secretly relieved and you know this. you'll hold my trembling hand.

but the film is washed out here, it breaks apart. there is too much light, too much heat.

it cannot be. in truth, knowing what you know i do, how could you stand to look me in the face and ignore it?