Beauty of those left in shadow

Facing everywhere out, but this back

Steps out to the night under its skin;

The moonlight strikes the lurking eyes.

I never see.


Into the wind that unwraps her

In them, there undulating hips,

That sway a moonlit allay

Into the creased folds,

Pulling, at the fabric white

Of a dream tonight.


Into the mangrove scrawl;

The limbs in arch-

Of those lost to a search,

They move for her.

Part slow in the divine,

Lovers traced lips.

Disclosing secrets in the stars echo;

High in the lone hills,

The flickers of the hushed

Wind on her sanded feet.

Every shimmy uproots silence,

Swollen in me.


The night walks her by,

She skirts into it-

Unto the pier outcast

In the carcass creek

Hiding from the sanguine

water rippling to her touching feet.


An anchored ribcage moans,

to it’s sails rustling.

I see skin.

Static form gone

In the mystic haze,

Chased out to the mangroves.


She stole me to the tint,

Reflecting one: sea and sky

In a tear fallen

from her face.

To fill me into

The emptiness of the moment

It found the sea.


And the mountain lights put out.

And the water was black

As the eyes it took from.

And she was gone.

And I fish with the moon,

For a pearl tear

Left in the shadow

of this dream.

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