we are the wind and waves,
in constant opposition,
with i the tide
and you
the ex,
with breath
and exhale.


i have layers to myself,
zones of gradient madness,
where many have descended
hoping to unravel
and split
the currents
that push back,
but they never got past
the edge of twilight,
instead drowning
in a
sunlit
and shallow grave.
there are
no stars
found within my
concealed midnight,
and deeper still
are the recesses
i refuse to allow light to,
abyss.


on my face,
the horizon outlines me,
doesn’t extend past me,
has kept me
within boundaries,
i can’t challenge
my own shape
if the form has been
defined before me.
the aura about me glows colors
i wish not to be, and i
refract the light
as it enters me,
but deny it
before it sickens me.
an illusion i don’t wish to fill,
but it’s forced on me,
so my froth springs forth
as my sovereignty is ground up.


amidst this turmoil,
i roil
and struggle
to rise on temporary
spurts of warmness from conducted
convection currents,
those timely enough
bubbling within me,
but once i grasp them,
they disperse,
leaving me to be immersed
in
the cold
once again,
with a lingering chill
to haunt me.


you’re the gale,
whirling promises too fast for me
to comprehend,
intangible nonetheless,
yet your retells of words
split the salt crystals i harbor,
so you can reach through
to me,
despite the air you breathe
never sinking past intervals
to convince me.
you try and prove
that your songs
aren’t just tunes
of the same tone
and ring without action,
but you’ve failed quite a bit.


we cannot exist without the other,

nor can we ignore
the timeless tempest storms
that have happened,
are happening,
clashing,
forking miles above
our colliding air
as our shared ether
dances
under the light of many moons.
i get more turbulent
as the sky darkens,
but you were always there
to smooth me down,
the jagged crests and
sunken valleys
made level by
your hushed wisps of words.
the calm in my eyes
was your doing,
and to which i resign,
content that you didn’t
harshen the words
you could’ve made
bite,
colder than heavens above.
but
where else
does the wind go?
to which valleys
and mountains
do you descend upon,
without my knowing,
careful not to bring dusted lust with you,
evidence, sediment
to settle
in layers
on my fragile
albeit
already fractured surface.


sometimes, i wish you’d drop dead silent.


but
if not you,
then
who would keep me company?
i see no one
feel nothing
exploring my expanse,
into the realness
that is me.
they linger on
surface tension,
they the past-tense, insignificant
buzzed then cut off,
next microbe.


though you’re not visible,
i can feel your presence
reside then
recede,
almost pull away from me,
never waiting,
but i always reach out for more.


the ocean cannot
change its elements,
it can only ebb and flow.
discards
washing ashore
only to absorb them
once again.
then
our rusted anchors sink to the bottom,
the waste that
imbalances my chemistry
swallowed
like leaden shipwrecks
but still
i foster the deep sea creatures
pestering my mind
parasitic as they churn the acidity
eating away at eight,
pollutants in my solvent.
the wind cannot comb feelings out of me
for after all
our interaction is limited to one face.