Sails
Saline fields of silence
Scented of the waking hours of the wind
Crawling over the deep blue
Onto the transparency of water
Reflection of the atmosphere
Impressed
Ripples papier-mache foam
scraps
Like mist pervading warmer lands at dawn
Hides
Concrete assertions of tangibility
In the aerial wisps of its sheen hair,
We lay covered in the magnitude
Of one all defining colour
By glimmering arrows quivered
Of a pattern of synchronicity
And sunbeam
We play our spindly limbs,
Like the whale and its mother
A crevice of shadows
Gobbled as one body
We swim
Towards new beginnings,
How deliberate it is that this is all we are:
Two dots occupying the same space,
Two sounds so similar
We could almost be forced into a rhyme
Our hands almost touching,
Uncertain first date lovers
in the insecurities of endearment
And navigation,
A dance of attraction that keeps us bound
To the sea,
Fingers fluttering
Like whittled waves to the whim of tide,
Hanging by a rail of sky
Curtains to the sandy shore
We dry out, wet, filled with ocean
Vertical to the laws of gravity
Seagull holes of blackness
Hollow the liquid linen fabric
Surfacing early morning dreams,
Quilted silhouettes that form a weave
To a blanket of September painted water,
Underneath that vastity
we sleep
Between the secrets we dearly hold
And the words we chose to write
There are sails of authenticity.
By ©Roberto C. Salvador 2021
