Let us, then, try to walk together
as if there were no more wars
waged between us, the gag of
damage picked apart with tender
fingers that tied the knots.
Shifting sea speaks to presiding sky
without complaining, no judgement
and no remorse; they work as one.
Can we not bear up each other, too,
in co-conspiring, with useful love?
But our battles hone mean edges
where vultures perch, waiting
for the bounty of our undoing.
Even woundings have reaped wounds
and begged for truce, it’s repose.
This, then, seems more a means to hope,
lighter steps toward the crux of us
that yet feel unnatural. Cool, sweet and
salty breezes soothe pain’s scouring.
You hesitate and turn. I am coming. Closer.