The sea spreads
steady as sunset, as spilling salt,
as the slow sink of forgetting –
unstoppered moments spiraling
down the drain, sluiced out
with melodies, hair-stroked strings,
undammed and unimpeded
by the star-flash of screens,
by fumble and fiddle.
The precious, ephemeral stillness seeds
a shark-sharp barb I’d have dodged otherwise.
My absent friend: You’ll never hear.