the sea salt grit runs through my gelatin bodice,
     elastic tentacles float around this dominion of mine.
          and you are my treasure –
     treasure hidden in plain sight
and mine to protect.
     i grasped my suckles around you,
          with perfect fit suction
               i held onto you.
                    but it was my own ink
               that blinded me and smudged the truth.
          you are not mine, nor am i yours.
     so with hesitation and grief,
i ride with the monsoon tides.
     to the vastness of the seas
          i offer my only treasure.

i’ve tried writing a poem about you
but the verses have slipped out of your mouth
in words that enchanted me more than ever.

i spiraled down into the inevitability of love
aphrodite’s aphrodisiac,
a potion to soothe pain and cause misery.

you are the double-edged sword
that i softly caressed.
tumultuous passions, bound to wound.

three steps backwards to propel us forward.
make acquaintances to the people
we grew up to be.

once lovers, now strangers
entangled in history,
retrace the path

follow the road of compassion
back to the beginning,
to find the future of us.

pancakes, scrambled eggs
a dash of Tapatio -
breakfast at midnight.

recounting stories,
the lessons learned from the past.
casting spells for love.

whitney sings of love
on our new vinyl player,
asks, “how will i know?”

I say, it’s simple,
it’s moments of gratitude,
joy, and sipping on

sweet margaritas
when the moon is at its peak,
our midnight rituals.

the sun is out
and everything feels
not so important
in my mind that usually overflows with dread.

our laughter drowns out
the anxiety. your ***** iced tea
washes away the insecurities,
birds of a feather in constant replay.

the breeze brings with it
good news from the seas -
a promise of baptism
to wash away winter’s miseries.

the bees buzz with chatter
of blooming fields
lupines, tulips, and dandelions
filled with sweet nectar.

the pink-blue skies so vast,
it opens us up
a special vulnerability, a flood of confessions,
stitching us closer together.

i lay in the middle of this field
beside you and our new friends
a new found community -
i am grateful.

bap·​tism: an act, experience, or ordeal by which one is purified, sanctified, initiated, or named.

floating in the vacuous flow of time -
endless whispers and murmurs,
trying to figure out which thoughts are mine,
and which thoughts are planted by others.

overwhelmed by the idea of being perceived.
to relinquish control or to take control?
we are nothing but one individual
in the sea of billions.

who's to say that this is worth our time?
who's to say that we have purpose?
i need a baptism to purify, to sanctify, to initiate, to name myself.
to find purpose in this ocean of nothingness.