When did dusk’s first rays start to falter?
I dream of the time when all your delusions
were also mine, how we played like children in a
Golden sunset that; us thus observing,
could hardly bear to touch horizon.
How we wasted time, languishing in an infinity
we were sure we held asymptote. If only we knew -
Those waves licking our feet were not caresses, but rather,
trenchant reminders of a now bygone shore.
Then, words did not need much imagination to stir,
nor did your glance require evening’s softening lights
to make tender. Silently we communicated, rapt as
sea made harmonious conversations with sky.
Now I know you but through the water’s reflection.
Though every feature’s constant, my right reaches out, only,
to meet your left – and while we move still in tandem,
We move still, in opposite direction.
Sometimes the sea breeze scatters your image
and I glide a lone gull, veering across
luminescent waters so strange that I oft in my curiosity
contemplate a migratory course.
Yet always I dream of a golden sunset – though now we expect
that night must surely fall; it is still this hand I know that will
catch mine, prepare, and make patient,
For tomorrow’s golden dawn.
