your heart is sore
and your voice is soft and low
you curl up with her
and tumble words back and forth
gathering time with urgency
and sorrow.
i cannot stop this tide from moving out.
my feet reach for the edge of the sea and
still she is carried by the wind,
out and away with the pull of the moon.
her deep, rhythmic breathing
soothes us to sleep
and we pull the windows up to hear her song
again
then, again
and forever.
I cannot say goodbye.
my mouth trembles like a moth
caught by a suddeness of light,
battering these useless wings
against the florescent air of night.
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