the age of your fingers
touched to mine
span lifetimes

for us
to expire
we'd go out
like plasma
arched
to the sun's curves

Behind the closed doors of her eyes she dreams, she lives
But like an open window her forehead shows what she tries to hide
It’s funny how even her body betrays her
How her mind has her wrapped around its little finger
How her smile somehow has something against her
How they try to destroy her when she is vulnerable
When she can’t see them coming
So she keeps her eyes open
Holding onto her memories like live videos
As she sits in her cage
And waits for her daydreams to save her

In the sands now,
The castles crumble,
You are salted, breaded
Of eternity and old song how
Under the mute whine of stars
Sings a lost melody all shall
Soon enough join in corals,
The dive into the stretches
Beyond strands and untoward
What light there surely may come,
Beckon, like recurring dreams
Of fathoms yet to be discovered,
The rivers of time have slipped
You by, here riding now in tides
And driftwood under stars, sails
Moving by masted spars' rowing,
Your rude cross, commemorating,
All that was dearest, too soon lost,
The ferried bones to sea from sky.