the seabed still remembers
sunlight upon its skin
your flame throws bird shadows
over the walls of my heart
that have never known sky
light a candle
with me
all night
we’ll watch
the lowering
of the flag
of its flame
I write to you
to keep you near me
the scars from our dreams
sew us together
a blizzard of butterflies
your songs shriveling
to scent
rings made from rainfall
miss the sea glass
crumbling sunlight
in your eyes
knowing fire
through the smoke
of your songs
the tantrums
of your tenderness
how your steps
slowed
to match mine
you’re the last light of the year
the late light of the day
that touches the old fire
that still clings to the tips of the trees
in my haunted park
stories to temper steel to
when the story falls silent
the folds folded
asleep inside the blade
I won’t speak to you again
I will still sing to you
songs white as whispers
same frequency as ghosts
I miss the tenderness
of being near you
your body soaked
in star and sea light
the sighs
from stroked shores
in perpetual twilight
slow as dream time