leftandright.
Published in
Aug 3, 2021
We argue after noon,
And fight all the way through
The starry lights.
Words stick to your bones
Like bloodstones in plasticine,
So I’ve always known they couldn’t break you.
Fronds on the wet sand resemble
The palm prints you engraved
On my cheek, when the tides rose
Way above sea level.
Silence floats by the edge
Of the moon’s light,
To give noise some time
To flow —out to space.
I’ve been meaning to ask you something:
Once you establish who is right,
Can we take a promenade by the beachhead,
And maybe talk about what we have, left?
