Near the wharf I sit on the damp wall and sip my drink, let my mind slide into a slippery salamander of sea. The moon is a glistening slice of neon, her whisper carries on the wind, “moon child I love you too”. Sinking further in I watch a velvet Osprey swoop my reflection from the silver waves where the sighs of lovers are lost in a monsoon. Old images flicker across my frontal lobe as I liberate sip by sip. That man with the golden veins doesn’t interest me anymore. Maybe later when my pearl skinned body breaks the surface I’ll bring him back again.
Photo by Westergren
Remember back when you were a rock star
and I was a hippie angel?
How comfortable we were with our
heart and souls bared.
Do you remember now that you are so far
away that night in Eden when you came to me
and I came to you and the rest of the world
We held on to one another, made love and cried
decided never to speak of how every time
the lights went out you rushed to me,
so tender, coming and going.
Young and in love, we named that month Sextember,
yes, it still matters to me.
Do you remember our anguished goodbye?
Neither do I.
Resa and the Rock Star
Dedicated to Resa @ https://artgowns.com