Volume Of The Future

Today I want to go into the caves
on the Isle of Lesbos with you

only so we can come out of the cave
together
under the blue sky of the Aegean

and walking together
over rocky terrain
we continue where we last left off

in spiritual and visceral existence.

The scents of the cave are wet salt
and the dampness of years
left a couple trillion stars ago.

Ships in port forget the afternoon
and remember only the Sea.

The Sea is the expanse of your love.
It calls out to the Earth.
It knows it’s known in the cosmos
where the black night is the illusion
of nothing.

So
we lose memory to remember the past
and to learn the volume of the future.

We wear jean shorts and sneakers
as we walk down to the docks.
Our toes are made of dust.

Your hair reminds me of grapes.
Your name is someone else’s.

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