Dreaming of the Future, again

It’s two a.m. we’re flying
an airplane through the sky
row two, me and you
my hand on your thigh,
Steward brings me whiskey
fills your glass with wine
asks how we are doing
you tell him we’re just fine,

High above the ocean
thousand miles from land
look down at your leg
and my naked hand,
Squeeze you oh so slightly
as I’ve done before
the dress you are wearing
is from the Goodwill Store,

Reading a romance novel
bought at the airport shop
a Times best seller
but not at the top,
Sip your wine slowly
I sip my whiskey too
wonder where we’re going
what we will do,

Some island in the ocean
a beach-side bungalow
they say there’s no Internet
how can that be so?
Will be there in ten hours
half drunk and jet-lagged out
strip off our traveling clothes
burn them, no doubt,

Warm water, outside shower
one of our coming prizes
the black and white brochure
proudly advertises,
We'll watch the sun setting
salt water on our skin
thinking of the places
we’re going, and have been,

You drop your book and fall asleep
I keep your wine from spilling
thinking of our life
both mundane and thrilling,
Out the airplane window
stars and crescent moon
the rumble of the engines
with their rhythmic tune,

Hand still on your thigh
Head now on your shoulder
seems the cabin temperature
has gotten somewhat colder,
I finish my whiskey
and finish your wine too
dream of the future
as I often do,