how far back can we remember
it is difficult to rewind
maybe a picture
like that one
me in your arms
I remember feeling
the scruff of your beard
and you, smiling back
memories, being in your midst
and with it, an undercurrent of your emotion
which would wash, cleanse
or bulge, suspend me, in fear
mid years, our ocean expanded
life placed us like buoys
In harbor of harbored feelings
While out of each others sight
winds ripple white the surface as you age
we seek, yet drift, in familiar current
you show me wounds of your own past
and i show you mine, with struggle,
a wait for your nod
desperate that you are not angry
can waters just be still
for there is blood in the ocean
there is hurt in our waves
foghorns bellow under dark skies
and there is blood in the sea
left only to wonder
was it you…
Or was it me
skipping stones 