Dreams

(written previously but not posted) I dreamt of you last night, my heart, though I'm not certain why you were wearing flannel and riding a bicycle. However it happened to be, I turned a corner and there you were, flashing your Peter Pan grin and wrapping me into your arms.  We needed to get inside because it was cold and snowy out, so into your house we tucked, you and me and my girls and my mother (don't ask).  The girls and Mother vanished somewhere, the way people do in dreams, and only you and I were left, so we curled up in your bed, wrapped around each other and rapt in one another,safe from the cold and snow outside.  This dream reflects only what I wish could be, with you on the other side of the country and me here, but I loved sinking into your embrace, feeling your warmth, sharing soft caresses.  I wonder, does your hair still spike up the way it does in my memories, soft and sharp all at once?  Probably not, since you're not that same wild young man that you were, any more than I am who I was.  Odd, that the look and texture of our hair should recall itself to my memory so clearly, when I can't quite recall the sound of your voice.  Your hazel eyes, the flash of your smile, the touch of your hand, these all burn in my mind's eye, but softly, filtered through years and miles.
How many pieces of my soul did I trustingly give to you for safekeeping, all unknowing?  Will I ever be able to take them again from your hands and restore them to myself? Or will I forever muddle along without them, having re-grown what I could in your absence?