striding unbroken on the fickle sand
of need, beyond the crash and gnaw
of arrogant waves, untouched
by their unbalancing roar

              in the last glow of day
              her mauve and gold chiffon molded and streaming
              the way storm clouds roll from the sun in awe
              as it gathers back to itself
              the rule of light

and I am spat from the gnaw and drag
of promises already forgetting my name
to hang where even the wash and shine
of distance offer no mercy

              and on her stockings
              tiny gold butterflies
              gilt-winged gifts
              glittered by her friends

and my heart pulls apart
like the undertow wrenching land
from land to understand
someone could be so loved.