recalling then now

i am only recently
of the ocean
returning in some
nighttime beautiful, if only
the moon actually
spoke to me.

there was a time
dreams were watery graves,
there i lived, dead
but stinking of nightmares.
or fear. certainly confused.
distant like love
as i ate my own soul.
came from there,
and slithered away
from peels of skin.

revelations in them days, dark
revolutions, shed blood
and tears far
from innocent. call it
an upheaval. when earth moved.
and somehow,
there never was a god. prayers
silent sought idiot lips.
never have i
kissed such beautiful demons.
then the moon got quiet.

nowadays, just tides
and seasons and silent the sails
of salient wind, though
solitude would be beatific.
i have pretended to know
better. but i know
better now.

i invented the ocean
so i could drown there
and come back for this
encore on shore,
palming silent psalms,
peddling lunar soliloquies
to solar cemeteries. sunlight
glints the sea. i have seen
beyond this.

still i cannot replace her.