She ascends the ocean sky
goddess of roar
crash and white surf
at our feet

her pale beams
bathe us bare
skin so similar
baptism of my
rebirth
miracle magnified
on wet mirrors
-your stare

and I swear
we would soar
slaves to the
silent whim
of the wind
were it not for
the reins of fingers
yanking the anchors
of my youth
innocent
naked

your smile is
lucid language
soliciting lungs
to swell with life
and exhale
to the tremor
of stiff
red curls
brilliantly opaque
like copper flowers
fit as a final
gift for my
empty
mausoleum

resurrection rushes
swifter than the sea
slips the sand
from my soles
and I suppose
the purpose
of any
single grain
was placed
for perfection.

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Like many on this site, I am a self proclaimed hopeless romantic plagued by tragic consequences... last but not least of which culminated at the hands of an ex-fiancé who secretly pursued a career as an exotic dancer. Sometimes we feel dead, and still, like a seed in the desert sand awaiting water, we long to be reborn. This second wind of the soul is precisely what I aspire to capture in this simple verse.

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