the musings of a seaside thief:

maybe it’s the air…

      …and maybe it’s the waves…

                        …or maybe it’s the sand, speckled on your face… 

whichever it be, 

all more reason i continue to seek 

as the salt binds me and my own gloves,

and i lay forever tethered to my mechanical sea…

for once, you lie asleep, soft marble on the floor of this room

and i stay awake, counting my pulse to the sound of embers sparking

nothing shining stays, glowing in the afternoon

curtains hug the breeze and but they miss the light that shines on through

clasping a heavy hand, promising to search for treasures others shall hide

in deserted dusty walls where we all reside

‘when we’re gone, do you think anybody will come inside

to see what we have done, to leave us behind?’

a seasick thing the way i listen for the court’s antiphony

for flora to cease without my spectral hands

to steal the world, to steal the sky, to steal the oceans, and the moon’s gifted tide….

blinking blue light under your skin 

shared heat, it seldom ever keeps

their fair rushing order might inevitably win

oh, lady justice spits acid on bleached reefs 

the fire burned across the waters clear

melded our huddled forms

truth filled your eyes with muddled malaise 

so i recite my beached up parody: 

‘commitment is indeed

freedom’s most crushing thief’

the wind whispers in waves 

new life to our lips we breathe it in

all the sand and all the salt,

all we will live with and without

heady smoke, chase away unlived laws 

in the end, it’s all i am, all you want