[Kay Syrah]

hold

I stand a wrecked stone
upon the beach where time
has drifted water, wood and sand
beyond my shiftless reach,
and I am but a sentry to the silence
of my sentence without end

yet I would take this sad relic of self
to throw after the relentless ebb
but I know I was only left
to mark the fullest tide,
receding from the moment we began

and I cannot, I cannot
follow as you flow endlessly away,
for I must ballast yet
the memory of what foundered
here in this loneliest of reefs
and my heaviness has stranded me
in this forsaken place
where there is no remission

of the weight of my planted-ness,
for the world must balance keep,
and stones weren’t made to weep.

[Camachee]

she paused
on the
periphery
of the silence
that he knew
naked
without
an easel