Tomorrow will be like today’s shadows
since there is no time-
You can come with the chapters of tears-
I will outline the story with my eyes.
The fight was in our touch
the lone-ness, filled in our hearts
and yet, we became mapped out like
           the linen ocean
Across the stars.

I wish you could understand Spanish
Because then you could see that I, my tongue,
moves like a beach wood guitar.
                   (Presently)
the Sand that comes to these lips,
is left to those unafraid to loose the shore.

The salted winds of my skin,
trusted with the rusted jewelry of timelessness-
  ironically gives me the freedom to dance
like my mother, the foamed Wave.