Fantasy Poem

Suspension


A whisper against sand
is only time shared between
strangers, the sky witness to
a slow swell, the pattern of your
hands on skin, drawn breath.

Heat rises, we have always known
this. Stars milk the sky and I see it in your eyes,
closed; it escapes from your open mouth.
The boil of the sea keeps cadence, your
ocean a blind leap, ascent into depth.

There are places to go at times like these,
when the present blends into memory
and desire is a silent companion. He flips
the index cards and I choose my poison.
No, you say.
Attend.