At the Ocean

A sunset falls over the flat
edge of the ocean
the last sunset of existence, maybe
all things coming to a close
at the end of this world, of us

your naked skin a star chart of
constellations
glittering galaxies of black beach sand
delicate chandeliers hanging in the
infinite skyscape of your skin
star pilots fly freckles through the
in-betweens
following thin blue corridors searching
for where it all ends

a fiery chorus of hair like twisting
flames of kelp
scratched and cursive penstroke writ in
red tale over your hollow bird bones
your shoulders slipping to windward
puckered nipples wandering as periscopes
do, peering into the long shadows forming
over the Pacific seashore

cold coastal wind but warm in rut
tilted body of a bottle of wine
inside that hollow green belly black wine
waves wash against the glass
coming moon in every current

photos of you in your panties posing
whistling, grinning through raccoons and
rosacea and magnetic pulse and
sad
and lonely
waiting to be noticed
maybe, one day

but we were both such idiots
your dumb laugh
your silly ideas
your goofy smile
is why I loved you.

TA