Trapped together on this island
under this canopy of light
a stitch in the night of ripped denim
interlocking coils of rain
unfolding from our will
never static, stagnant nor predictable
it’ll give us only distance
residue on the next morning
tears from the ceiling we’ve constructed
without the strength to hold it back.
Pools offer glimpses of the sky’s infinity
the energy expressed in mist
cloaked in myth
the shadows that hug the cliff
are too temporal to leave symbols.
Cave lapses, I’ve been here before,
on another coast, along another shore.
There was another shade
another penetrating wave
while foam cascades
over another glistening throne.
like one great gasp of a white-capped wave
pounding infinite fragmentary diamonds
upon the waiting pockets of the earthen fold.
The Point, the surf, the sky-reflected shore,
the hazy drastic horizon’s blur
the child’s fantastic dreams
laying there condemned to water
the ocean slowly encroaching
this half-formed crustacean.
I’ll take you in, then set you free again.
Tides are endless creamy seas,
great white horse-driven waves going static
in their asylum of broken whispers,
nocturnal emissions I pray I’ll always hear.