Apparently, with some alterations on He’s part, romantic negotiations are in process.

As it is, playful expectations are accompanied by that which begets fear; poison ivy, scratchy thicket burrs and branches edging the river’s ankle-deep poetry. The easy grace of youthful cinematic romance (certainly absurd) ineptly flows.  Airy posts, charming gifts, and romantic dress more appropriate for elegant studios may not be the best in a snaggy fact-ladened riverine encounter.  It is high-summer, bugs and sweat, smells and flying insects and snakes (thankfully no venom) and spiders and jumpy things.  The gifts of a young man, the momentary relinquishing of props, the poetry of late afternoon (and mosquitos to follow), perhaps the right words; may, (if the universe retires from interrupting) unfold some delicacy, some grace.

Although well-intended, even the elements of the simplest desires aren’t always landed in the best place.