indigo

as I left the waterfront
and I climbed up the sandy stair
as always his brothers were
first; to greet me.

I've had past dealings with them,
both had crossed a similar line in the sand;
but in their own way.
Their wives, his sisters, have gone missing,
but something within me knows they are close by
as I can smell something cooking, and looking
I know the children are taken care of.

fresh from his brother's sins against me,
I was wary; but they greeted me; lovingly.

this must be a dream

As always when I wander through this familiar maze
I find my least favorite room.
And once I am there,

something backs me against
the wall
the wall with the window,
the wall with the window that looks out on the waters.

Some heavy weights have slipped inside my shoes
they, as the others do, detain me, refrain me,
they know he will soon be showing himself.
And now there is nothing to prevent it.


Like a lifesaver I am buoyant as always and tough as hard candy
I am impatiently waiting to sweeten your presence.
And I am not afraid of you.

this must be a dream.

I can smell, and taste, his entrance
it is indigo...it is salty and wet
It is brisk and mellow.
I am not afraid.
I can feel the cool mist of his tears
They are first, on my cheeks, but then
my palms and fingers are drenched.


“I cannot stay, for you,” I say as I look out on those waters
and it suddenly occurs to me, I have no inclination as to why
I am even there, at all.
Something about presents for his mother.

this must be a dream.

His response does not frighten me.
I am seduced with a sense of pity.
He is forgiving and forgiven.
His tongue moves slowly like the lapping waves.
There are no words, of course,

but I feel something deep and steady
suddenly wash over me.

eventually my eyes, half open, allow in some light.

the walls around me have failed

my sisters at present, guide me out onto an ivory sloop

and they whisk me away--