Places of Love: the dark sea

I grope in the depth of my boat
for memories of you – texture of skin,
blemish in neck that breathes. In black silt
I fish grains of stars that glint

in the moon lit night, arc of silver
on my hand is a perfect pearl of pain
probed by your hands minute
after minute. The arching of sky

to meet the sea is enabled by storm
you create in my heart. Wearied
I turn back to the shore, open my fist
and watch star dust sink to the sea bed.









Photo credit: Jill Kraft


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