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Tracey Katz Jun 2015
When the sea is blue glass brightling
and no secrets haunt its depths
I watch your yellow laughter as it sails beyond me
and does not look back

When the fields are busy with greening
I feel your hands, lazily skimming
the tall grass blades, waist height
As you languidly stride past me
Your gaze not falling behind

When the purple dusk air is full
Of vermillion butterfly wings
I see you turn slow circles, your face towards the sky
Spinning ever beyond me

I saw the grey-black thunderheads and the tang of ozone
Silver-violet forks of heaven's anger
Scarred the earth beneath
The seas foamed and swelled, thunderous with ire
All gossamer things scattered, scared

And I saw you, turning
A question in your eyes;
But
I will not be your haven
The arms you reach for in the dark
You turn from me in sunlight
Fleeing like a dust-mote, away

I will not be your haven
Unless ...
You promise me you'll stay.

— The End —