there are shifting sheets of sea and light
just beyond the edge of sight
and i’m unsure
whether i’m more seaspray or shore
sunstruck or adrift
under sweeping stars
then all at once, the mirror breaks
celestial patterns replicate
reflect then fracture on black waves
i raise the anchor, drop the sails
the night then draws its curtain down
the light stays where you are somehow
i think that i’ve known you before
love is a familiar shore
opalescent glass bead raindrops
shatter as they hit the surface
of the water, mirror still,
aureate, as autumn’s chill
spills over this seaside town
all sheets of gold between slate cloud
what is it that you think you’ve found?
the sun sets down his radiant crown.
you are the only constellation that i’ll ever understand,
you are my star map, you’re my sundial,
you’re the compass in my hand.
the luminous points of our lives strung together,
the sea breeze is carrying with it saltwater and wonder
the waves pool around at our feet
whispering at worlds we’ve yet to see.
i cross the coast,
and then below,
winding country roads,
rising chimney smoke.
little looking glass lakes
reflect our plane,
i’m only just awake.
it was a grey and ghostly,
we were caught between the point where sea and just-light sky meet.
at the end of the world,
there’s a dark harbor
all your dreams are suspended in silver.
i float at the edge of forever
with love as my anchor,
we are always together.
starlight and saltwater.
silver springs and the starlight motel
it’s the strangest state to find yourself in now
you’ve got me brought to my knees, here
your devotional words are feeling foreign, unfamiliar
and what had once felt like home or like grace
feels apparitional now, it moves in abstract shapes
rising fog, speeding freight trains
these are my desert days
and touched by magic.
to be not quite of this world,
like the flickering of fireflies
in the fading dusk light.
i am comfortably coaxing fragments of a past self, into the present.
crescent eyelids, closing. a slow exhaling.
two hummingbirds hover by the kitchen window,
bathed in the rose-gold evening glow
of southern california, in late october.
coconut dahl simmers on the stove.
i am softly falling,
i have waited for this.