dearest friend
writing from a land-locked place

God
I turn to you for love
and I bring it
with me

not like yours except as a shell
with hopeful and stifling
stuff
inside

we could walk on the beach
early in the morning
while the same
seems most
shiny
and firm

and we could listen
we could
talk
we could listen

and would you hear me and appreciate
my hesitations

so that what is unsaid
could
finally be sent

and then the day would have to start
I guess
and we in it
though we could meet now
and then
even
on a bench to watch
the beach get
walked on
while
the shore erodes

then
night
and we could talk then
too

c l couch


photo by Ibrahim Rifath on Unsplash