All the symphonies of white in circles around us –
because powerless is all we are now –
the shockwaves of our dying souls;
the cold touch of a sea too dark to swim in,
the damp remains of a sky never quite clear,
forever so woozy my heart and so tired my eyes.
A bucket of salt water washes away the memories,
the stones under my feet force me to stumble steady
through the dust and the smell of an ocean view.
I’ve carried all my thoughts of you here only to leave,
to bear these lesions when we walk away for good
to quietly suffer on the kitchen floor,
to have my arms around you in my mind forever
so woozy my love and so tired my hands.