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Click hereHere we walk
Disarmed in arm
Betweentides
Lonesome left alone
Winsome when some
Memory or reflection
In innocence walks on by
We hold on to ourselves
Like sore lovers
Brittle boned in all the spots
We found to break love
Yet we haunt each other
And these old haunts as well
All those old places
We used to use back then
Gone and packed away
In old suitcases
Or thrift store sores
Envelopes marked “someday”
Nippled as limpets
To a low tide stone
Held tight in low hopes
Of hightide dreams
Look back
And you can see
I’ve walked all this way
By your side
Still