Craters
if you looked through
the window
you might see a ghost,
or a mirror.
Your own reflection
hollowing out
as if you were only bones
accompanied by
a sheet:
…
Boo.
more of the same,
none of the
same
things are happening
for the other.
The Distance
pulls and pushes
playing games, with what we see
and what we get.
Sometimes it’s violent
but we land
soft.
Listening to the struggles
of another,
and another
just trying
to land
on their feet.
One day’s
treasure
another day’s
karma.
but
there are
Scars that
we leave
behind
only seen
in the ripples of the touched
surface, from the
other
side;
I am not
your karma
or your
reflection.
Ascended from the
stars,
friends with the moon,
worshipper of the ocean
tide coming in
and knocking you
Clean off
your feet.
but you’ll land
okay because I’m sure
you always find, another siren
close to the top of the water
that allows
you safe passage
in and out
of the rippling windows
that lie between
the tides
and, now.
