Crossings III


Somewhere in the periphery of my mind I recognize a life being lived by you that has nothing to do with me.  Like the sand crab dancing his peculiar sideways dance to the water’s edge I get where I need to go by not looking at it straight away. Impossible to focus on you as a man living an ordinary life with ordinary women while I wander this distant shore imagining you over and over as if the moments could only be strung together with the beads of “what I would do if” and “how I will hold you when.”  I have been here for so long I no longer see things as distinct and separate from each other but rather the bird is the sky and the wave reaches from the horizon and you are in me not just as a memory but I am altered by your touch and the taste and the smell of you so that I can no longer feel where I end and the raw edges of what you left behind begin.  Wide open sky falls, like a woman making love, over the obstinate sea, going deeper until colors merge and nothing can distinguish the two.  Sitting here at water’s edge I fold wet sand smelling of seaweed and dead crustaceans into the higher dry sand until it becomes a third thing, hot, wet, and primitive.  In truth, I would be terrified to actually face you because I have imagined you turned towards me and loving me for so long that I would not be able to bear the pain of anything less.  It is true isn’t it?  That we are the same.  Twins longing for each other from distant shores.  Separated by time and space but merged forever at the heart bone.  Like a bird that needs the wind to fly or the wind that would not be known without the sail, how can I make you understand this silence, a whisper that begs to sing, a sail that needs to billow, white and round pulling me in my small boat towards you because there is no other way to do it, the boat, my heart, will always reach in the direction it needs to go.