Purging ghosts.
Remains unknown.
Before the honest untangling
and exit, lies
sorrowful lies told and unquestioned.
Growing up isn’t quick,
or clean.
Longing tugs,
yearning twists.
And in the great redefining
of love
comes a self-mastery
more valuable than all treasures
sought and killed for.
My heart was yours,
our gentle laying natural and,
for you,
too unfamiliar.
Can’t hold the gifts,
passionate or otherwise,
without the water passing through the spaces.
Other waves,
long ago risen,
must also present themselves
in salt prisms and opalescence.
Where, after all,
would the sun set without definition?
Gaze upon that changing horizon line…

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