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, october morning we were caught between the point where sea and just-light sky meet.
at the end of the world, there’s a dark harbor and there, 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