Amsterdam journal: dream sequence 7/9

At 1AM, it was a mad run down the streets after a guzzling a second Guinness bought by a friend of Paul's, whose boyfriend and translator David, read a short story. Her name was Josie or Yoski, as she said it, an ex-potter

I now know who Paul is, that dream in which I mistook my brother for him, so he's on my path too. The relationship I have with Paul is very much like the dream, he somewhat resembles my brother, except for the hair, so that”s why I assumed it was my brother, a long time ago. I didn't realize that it wasn't my brother. I just thought he was had a full head of hair because it was a dream.

When Paul tilts his head down, it's scary how much he looks like my brother, not so much full on, but the brow is the same.

Ever the gentleman, Paul bought me a Guinness when I joined him. How simple. This is what I need, friends who will take me by the hand. He brought me a poetry book from England, Poetry Review, lots of articles about the Irish poets and I am in hog heaven. There is a wonderful comfort sitting next to him, nothing untoward, mind you. His role in my life will be revealed in time.

I invited him over for dinner, or for tea if he preferred. If you would like… Yes he said, double-checking that I had his number. Last time we met, I was 25 minutes late. He said Next time it's my turn to be late. Ouch!