A lopsided egg of a moon

invited me into sleep

even after shutting the curtain against her light.

She stirred wakefulness,

and a sloshing fancy of dreams,

dreams of time travel and remembered people,

an upsurge of unknown futures and staccatos of history.

New land, an unwritten life, and no one to catch me

disturbs digestion,

but moments come when slow, long-distance swell

breaks overhead,

washing my shoulders, sucking at my ankles,

shifting immense vulnerability to a salty, and fresh excitement.