My mind
has not been my own
for quite some time,
and I can say
with some level
of certainty
that I have not been
for as long
a time.
I cannot remember
the catalyst
for this shift
in my psyche
but it seems
to orginate
when you revealed to me
a future that you saw.
A future
in which you saw
your little son
who has not yet
graced this Earth,
running around
a house you do not yet own.
And you mused to yourself,
Who should come through that door?
after a long day of work

should come through that door
and scoop up my son
in his big arms,
and come to me
with the deepest of kisses?
The only man 
that came to mind
was you.
Simple words,
yet their humble utterance
felled me as if
I were nothing more
than an oak to an axe.
forgive me, stranger,
if I seem distant,
should you find
my eyes
be settled
on some unforeseen point
on the horizon.
My mind
is not my own,
for it has left,
you see.
It has gone
to the future,
to be with you,
our son,
and a future me.


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