The words sound
strange, not
just the words,
how they sound
a little bit of the middle
part, the idea
wrapped inside
…so far from what was home
green islands
warm hearts, now
something new…you
feel alone and apart and different
but good, but interested
a genuflection toward
living…feeling
I was happy enough to feel
a glancing blow, a flat stone
skipping across my surface
as I felt you near for
far too short of time
if there was a word
a magic that I could see
feel, hear…I would
be that, be that so
the moment didn’t stop
so that the ripples
on my surface
sink below and become
a tide…pushing
pulling us
to another place.