The sea slides
away. Fog
banks the high
tide and lakes
wrap the
highway.

You are the
specter in
my mind.
Garnet
laughter
rings out
in the house
of sand -
it's yours.

I stay up
late, branded
with sea.
I think you
are the grace
of the world.
The beach
swerves into
umber mist,
& an absent sun
hums just below
the horizon.

Without you,
the night-walk
is so hollow.
Without you,
the cigarettes
burn in rooms
of rain.
Without you,
the shells
are striped
with longing.
My balcony
heart perches
above the salt
city.

How many
days will
the fog bank
the high tide
& lakes wrap
the highway?
How long
will the sea
slide away?