whether it was the wind from the sea

that moved me and the white lace curtains

I’ll never know until time has left me

running along the beach, barefoot

whether it was the sound of your voice

once heard across the waves and the air

singing of remembering when

and telling tales only a weathered soul could tell

written on the fragile parchment of his being

blessing me with the shape of it in my hands

maybe I will never know where it came from

worshiping your strong naked body from afar

revealed against the back lights and the moon night

but I know it’s always there when eyes close

and I dream of loving every inch of it

once and for all

if only it was just the thickness of your thighs

the unthinkable beauty in the heart of your eyes

a way of speaking or a shared pastime of pens

easier than maybe it would be

to part without a rip, a hole left,

a tearing of this thing we’ve created

beyond us and our circumstances

if only the sea hushed itself outside of my window

bringing your ship sailing into my world

if only my love could end like the thought that it can

if only it could then it would