Maybe..

Maybe I’ll come to love you again

narrow and straight, this eggshell dense constraint

can’t say when and if that will happen

purple blistered disquiet breaking open

scrolls and shells on ways to reacquaint

I have twanged away too far and too long

down one-way streets into such broad places!

many reasons later – I was too young,

too foolish; or not enough; wrongly strung

at any rate, to loiter in those spaces -

I’m here; maybe I’ll come to love once more

these narrow necks, this stripped sky in narrowed eyes.

These thin skinned moons, their scooped out hollow cores,

the cirrus-slim line of foam on the shores

gnawing at shallow sands before it sighs and dies.