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.
