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
but moments come when slow, long-distance swell
washing my shoulders, sucking at my ankles,
shifting immense vulnerability to a salty, and fresh excitement.