Sublunar Tide

Ways of Ocean

we became conversant in the ways of ocean
plunging our arms into the water
we brought up marble flakes in impossible colors
temptation camouflage innocence melancholy
all coated in salt

on the border of shallow pools
stretched straight between the low tide rocks
silvery metallic foam gleamed at each eruption
brightening the surface of words piled up
one on top of another forming spiraling tower
ripple flood current lust fortune desire

fate like veined granite showing off
through small geometric forms
cubes spheres pyramids
protecting the shores for a day of our stay
manmade identities shed as easily as crispy sand

waking –
we saw that we had the same dreams

Pink Moon

one day she will fall in love with the moon
for longer than one night
one day…

11 April 2017, Full Moon

Sublunar Tide

she closed her eyes and told herself
this was more than a short trip away
less certain in the partial gravity
her adrenaline levels higher
body absorbing the tide

she had lost track of places they passed by
she had lost track of things they talked about
climbing backward head orbited by a revolving halo
of towns no-towns, sandy fortifications
green wine surfers of sublunar tunnels
Arrifana in the wake of a second wave of vertigo
Aljezur tasting of salty past
Sines at 3am to make her realize she could not stop
she must not hide
she must not be afraid of cold empty universe echoing
dark dreams
she must not hesitate
Cavaleiro where love is made of water
where she has no fear letting the ocean take her
into the long pulse of the full moon dub
the choir of Atlantic sirens turned poets invoking
free verses from the grimoire of Zambujeira do Mar

Silent Vastness

most of the days succumbed to the elements and fell silent
the language exhausted itself in the vastness of Atlantic cliffs
words became spare sentences unfinished
resembling more and more the local dialect

sunset cult-practices replaced the insecurity of convention
all the possibilities to cage the pattern of nature were used up
their memories became unreliable
the present – eternal like grains of sand

one day he returned to their suite and she was gone
absorbed by the luminous particles overflowing the space
her scent and the morning breeze
both felt as if still real

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