The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 8 | Page 15

11

tides

Scattered memories of you, specks of light

illuminating from fireflies flickering at night

over fields freckled with flax and

dew drenched with ache.

You were the full moon, I the sandy shore,

your gravitational drag incessant,

leaving slack water between us,

halting us at low tide

until desiccated, I blew away

and you waned.

I collect fireflies in my net

to reconstruct events

and testify in my defence,

needing to forgive and be forgiven

and return the frozen ocean to diurnal tides.