We’ve moved through a year
parallel but unsynchronized,
separate although side by side;
from inquisitive awareness
of acquaintance to love-struck
blindness and back again,
hand-in-hand, half-drunk crossing
a shallow river over tumbled
rocks slippery with moss.
Me stumbling, you steadying,

My stranded hands illustrate
tempests for you, floating them off
incomplete as corked glass crossing
the sea only to turn to dust storms
upon opening. My calloused fingers
fail to fabricate our mosaics
from sand and saline, abstractions
you somehow complete; crafting
clarity from incongruity

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