i lost you after the hurricane

waves that i can no longer greet with laughter

(but with a tumble)

the night will never look like it did again / that night you told me

and i am joining you again (forever)

not with a kiss but a tangle of limbs

i was never one to grapple

/ i sit by the side with my words while you leave

a pocket of silence while you churn around me

a maze of entangled branches is gone

so you and i walk dully along the sand

footsteps (a past) washed away in our wake

i used to dream we would live in that house above the waves

an island of our own making / left over from a childhood we never had to leave

the collapse: (a sabotage)

engineered by insidious whispers of progress

if you are on the other side of the island

i would fight through the brush

/ but the hurricane has left a swamp

and i do not know if i should cross the water

give me a sign that you have reached the other side of your tempest

i will rebuild my boat

from the downed trees that accompanied your leaving

i will laugh off the memory of those harsh winds

and dive back into our waves

— as if they could once again be home