☆

Your eyes
are not lost to time—

they look through mine,
            star of the sea.

A rhythm runs in reverse,
a cosmic hesitation,
      a mirrored universe.

Beneath retrograde skies
I feel your gravity in mine—
  moon-pulled,
    waver at shore,
      a body arriving
        through what it adores.

Every survival a tide,
    echoing in sighs

Somewhere,
a bell sounds—low—
  across horizon’s spine

    where birds ark
   and fly.

The tide swells
  in salt, then silence;

it re-members surfacing
  in love’s deep guidance—

    drawing you
      through ancestral lines,
    carrying songs
      over brine,

longing
only a distance,
  only a sign
rising full in the vein,
  then waning—
    blind—

you are the undertow in my blood,
  the soft glow
    in my heart a-flood,

lifting to constellations of passage and rite,
    your eyes, vessels in flight—

water-bound,
  they move
    through every fossil night,
mapping generations,
carrying the memory
  of light.

Lodestar,
  guide bright,
    ce retour,

endless migrations—
  to where seeing
    becomes
lasting sight.