There’s a few things I want to say
about the un in happiness
and why it’s sacred to be.
His love came boiling up like
like the sea rolling and boiling
up until I noticed him there
I just hadn’t before.
Only sand
no footprints, a sharp breeze
out of the north-west -
that was it. I
had walked there
forever next to the rolling
boiling sea thinking
nothing of the whole thing or
what might come out of it
until he emerged all covered
with sea-weed and barnacles
a short stint on the shore he
said I never walk
here.
That was a happy day and
the wind shifted to southerly
no bite at all only that switch
and bait over skin an awareness
that all is somehow right not wrong
until that moonless night
when he slipped away
I awoke to see the curtains
blowing in the wind
distinctly north-west
shivering I again became
un, a little waif in the world
sacred, nevertheless.
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