You speak to the brides
through the cold thin air
betraying them by your
The summer we spent at the beach
left us far from where we started.
You were content to spend your days,
nights, in quiet somnambulism.
Cool air and a ripe apple lie forgotten
on the bed of summer.
A chestnut orb, prickly piece of
sabotage, finds my step as I transverse
I missed you today.
Yesterday, your footprints were
found in the gray sand.
I wait at night
for the man to come.
Tired of daylight dawning.
Eyes blinded wide