Crossings IV

CROSSINGS  IV

At dusk there are only a few words forming in my mouth that could tell you what I feel.  I could talk to you about sex but the sound of the word is too short and too solid to define what I feel when I sit here at the edge of the sea and watch the shimmering red globe immerse itself, fiery desire, into the cobalt sea.  I cannot help but remember the summers we did the same, namelessly, and in desperation, we merged, water with sun, heat with darkness, the sigh becoming a moan, the cry breaking into its own sob while we fell helplessly into each other.  I would not be able to call it sex if you were here to ask me.  No, I would have to tell you I cannot name it but I can watch this sunset and I can wonder why you left it behind because I cannot understand how you could walk away from what I can only sit and weep at remembering.