BEACH DAY
‍ ‍For Tesha 

If only time like a pelican sailing— 

and not the scars of hours 

constant only as their knife, I 

wait for you in the shadow 

of an umbrella, squint  

an approaching, I  

shift with the shape  

of you? Images, not the name 

of things but their fallible 

prepositions, fickle 

conjunctions, the mind foams 

between lung and word, I love 

near understanding like 

water beating shore 

instructs us in power 

prostrate, a sigh moved to ‘I’ 

states love in the state of ego— 

but sometimes often I 

cannot believe the impossible 

tropic color of flowers 

or the baobab, on its last nerve, 

a bud, love like 

sometimes often I 

close my hands near  

around an idea of you 

and it is you! love 

not like an object  

striking objects  

but a sigh sailing 

between us, diving 

now and now with hunger.