may i be
consoled to see
the heart
in each burnt star?
to know that you’re
not dust-
I slip away,
now
face to face
with waves that claim
the spark from every
raindrop
tries
to
soften
gravel eyes-
we drag the shore
in search of
calm,
sand writhing
half alive.
hope turned
away,
and in blinded
eyes
the sunlight
hid,
as if to shun our wants
for warmth,
until the day she’d gaze
our way again
to grant us her wealth
of attention.
lately i sleep with my
ear to the sea
to perceive what’s
below,
do i hear
a faint echo?
like my own softened
voice
bubbling up from
the floor,
your deep water
whispers
leave me dreaming
of more.
fate came
clawing
yet he evaded
its grasp
with a faith more moving than
the words chosen to
describe it,
while beneath skies that rolled
like jewel lined
meadows
he glanced up to find
remnants of
you
in that
never-ending blue.
the whoosh of
shadows
from not quite beyond
the senses
assure that i
am ever
seen.
i watched as steam
rose from your
palms–
extended towards
the void
and knew you had summoned life
from beyond any myth
we had learned.
her head filled the
pillow with
dream
and her body remembered
the running
her lips,
the moisture–
soothed by the scent of
an ethereal
lover
while resting
covered.
you grant such solace
through silence
and i bask in the boundless
fathoms of our
connection,
it’s through this
ether
we reach each
other.
tiptoes in the
garden,
fingers of
forest-
hopes buried
or
budding from
crown,
sterling stars of
spring-
the
petals of
my evening
gown.
hands in the garden 
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