Vapor.
Tired ocean eyes
stare at an endless horizon
Downcast lashes for now
Dark and snow-tipped
fluttering like birds
on the echo of a hillside hymn
a prayer whispered
from languid terrain
and cold exhales
Pale curtains part
for intrepid dancers
a slow ghost waltz
rising up gracefully before fading
like mist; a fistful of dust
disappearing in a ceiling of shade
Grey and white, silver and still
Shrouding the jewels
that encrust your gilded winter
like a sunless daydream
You curl into warm sweaters
in search of humbler stones
I’ll watch you comb your beaches
carelessly plucking quiet agates
collecting my unread poems
or the weight of my longing
silenced, in a small glass jar
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