Salt can cure us.
I’ve seen it done before:
like a few days ago,
when you came in from the pouring rain,
all drenched and miserable.
Your socks were sopping.
You were shivering
just a little,
and I glanced at the fire
and nodded at the easy chair.
Though the snow has melted,
I knew the ice was still present
in your bones.
Then I brought it out,
you […]
You feather like ink on linen
or smudged pencil lines
whenever I try to place you
in my mind;
my memory marred
by weather, by seasons,
by the Pacific
that separates us.
I could picture you in
humid Asia;
lightweight, fragile
as if you’re formed by
the bones of bird
or fish.
Over there it’s Jasmine leaves,
sweet oranges, oiled wood.
While I was a child
that foreign land
became a part of […]
