Its form shaped by the water. Roberto's lover looms in the waters, Rushing steady in the lucid eddies. Roberto revels in the circular pools. Then wander random memories, in hopes of being lured by haunting fingers beckoning. Mere picture in a book, bedside, some names.
Paths merge here once, or cross, enough to just have been at all.
Sated, I sigh . . . Lured by wraithlike phantasies, passe' shrouds of mystery- lost in Louisiana magic. He rolls a coin over each knuckle and rechecks his outfit for doves, sponge balls and hidden scarves in the sleeves. The Great Jensen waits in the wings. The clowns in the back laugh and exchange jokes and stories.