fireflies flicker bits of soul at ocean’s edge
angel mists rise from foam to the tiny lighthouses
i wade infant waves and their tiny lion roars
dig my feet into dis-finite granules of weathered stone
spread my arms into a cross for the ocean to bear.

i wonder, as the echo of silence fills my humid lungs
if i held half a sun to my cracking lips
licked comforting fire off its dancing edges
filled myself up with stolen luminescence
would i be enough a beacon to call you to shore?

i can feel the reverberating echoes of energy
they swirl glass-filled water around my ankles
for a moment i am infinity, omnipotent, divine
the clear sky is my mirror of stars and velvet
i think i finally understand why.

then little lions swirl away and the echoes are gone
i indent the sand like a statue left to wither
in that moment i am tiny, lonely, empty
my freedom feels broken, incomplete
i’ve forgotten how to know you.

(remember to breathe) as silence fills my gaps
a lighthouse firefly drips its way to the sand
white wings sprinkle me with dew and fall to dampness
shadows make love to the edges of my eyes
my cheeks are wet from the salty rain.

my feet are cold.
you are gone.