Exquisite lace trimmings dance in gusted sand;
Exalted dervishes upon alabaster.

So we dance this
familiar dance;
different steps
to the same tune.

I like this one
better; I don’t
watch my feet
now-

I look at you.

Oh Sun of aft’noon sorrow, recall those
queries I did raise. Beget those
dreams for nigh’time morrow, those
morns lack gift for change. Bless those
young men, child, teen, those
stars low or floating, I. Cannot those
heavens we so lusted bright those
effervescent sky? To whom those
shall they call to - to whom those
years be long. Oh Sun re-assure me
that my heart was never wrong.

Forged into memory like sea-
carved shore: the Aegean
sun tinged our flesh through
gaps of linen fiber.

A fiction, pages wavy from
splash and dry, laid ajar
upon Her napping breast.
Foreign faces looked like mine.

I remember the sweet
saliva that drew from saltine
lips’ embrace, and the voiceless
stares we traded for nothing.

I remember we couldn’t
describe the color blue.