A faraway gaze.
The horizon is an ignited flourish of fire.
Shades of burnt orange and grey, like a warning.
In dreams, I swim freely in turquoise water.
A woman unchained by trepidation.

I build fairytale castles in the sand,
conquering miniature kingdoms.
I bury my heart so deep that no one can find it.
Secrets of love and heartbreak, compartmentalized.
I wear an antique locket that contains the treasure map,
and a ring with a diamond key to unlock it.
A magical labyrinth.

Those halcyon days…
The distant fragrance of a half-remembered life.

So long since you drifted from me, and I nearly forgot your voice—years since we moved together underwater, breathing blue…
Have you ever had the elements speak to you in a specific way,
forcing you to contemplate the nuances?

I forget to speak of the things that wake me in the night, strange dreamscapes, hieroglyphics, and abandoned city streets which the ghosts of my memories haunt.

I never told you of that endless summer when the ocean spoke to me…
Supermoon. A season of contrast, as the hot, hot heat of forest fires raged inland,
billowing hazy smoke towards the Coast, permeating the air with pale ashes
until the sky choked, and it began to rain.

Pelting drizzle. Cloudbursts thick as a monsoon,
a brief respite to the intolerable burn.
Being like water in spirit
I have always found it necessary to live near the water,
falling asleep to the sound of undercurrents,
the tides aligning with my biorhythms.

Rivers were never enough, with their depressingly cold undertows,
freezing the skin without the softening element of sea salt.
A dangerous swirling which swept the strongest of us to our deaths,
pockets filled with stones.
Lakes held the mythology of mysterious monsters,
water serpents, and other predators, chilled as icy snow.

So when the ocean said “SWIM,” I could not resist the call.
I’ve never liked being alone in the dark, but I felt safe.
The waves were illuminated by a hypnotic, glowing moon.
Moon is a transformer, and Its face looked upon me with love, like a grandmother.
I found my balance, feet sinking into cool sand.

That water, that salty, buoyant, water. The dream of every spa experience.
Cleansing my soul. Absorbing my heartaches.
One splash from the waves, and balance is restored.
But I usually forget this unless I am immersed in it up to my hips.

Struck by tears of gratitude and reverence, the salt from
my eyes merges with the waves. No one to see me choke up,
no one to tell me that I’m wrong for experiencing feelings in a sea of emotion.
Sometimes I don’t know where the water ends, and where I begin.

Sing me to sleep,
there is always a rainstorm inside of me.
Storm-born, I have always craved what I came into the world understanding.
Give me a respite from perfect weather — I need an element of drama.
The weight of heavy clouds stirs up premonitions.
I have a gift that’s greater than myself: I can see the future in a tempest.
My life. Your life. Our life.
Destiny is an illusion. We create our own reality and wants and needs collide.

Whenever I have felt heartbreak,
the rain has smashed down in sympathy,
flooding the flowerbeds
and trickling down so hard that no windshield wipers
on any vehicle could ever be strong enough for drivers
on the freeway
to anticipate the submerged edges of freeways,
tires skidding hither and thither.

Be like water.

Strange how many people are afraid of rain,
carrying umbrellas that turn inside out from the bracing wind like
useless props on a movie set
instead of surrendering and letting themselves get soaked to the skin.

Never tell me that I “broke down” or “fell apart”
in a moment of feeling overwhelmed.
A conjuring.
Give me a dream and I will give you my world.
Give me a nightmare, and I will transform into a reckoning

I was taught by the elders of my tribe how to spiral in a circular dance,
creating intricate patterns with my movements,
spinning until I was dizzy.
Propelling my arms forward, palms up to the sky,
praying for rain of mythic proportions.
Please, bring forth the rain.
God. Creator. Great Spirit.
Mother Goddess. Mother Earth.
Or whoever else is in charge…We are our own gods,
and the name of the entity does not matter as much as the sentiment.

Sometimes I get lost in my own words, a reverie.
Like every poet spinning stories, altering reality.
Different versions of myself come forth and are vanquished.

We are all connected, and water is life, so never take the rain for granted.
Look towards the heaven and embrace it.
Spinning, dizzy. Spirals. Patterns.
Droplets suddenly hurling down, cleansing brain and body,
healing the plight of drought…at least temporarily.

Sometimes I think about phenomenal storms that went too far. Descending into heartbreak or mayhem.
Decimating, conquering entire
populations, particles of other people
swept up in the collective unconscious.
We are other people’s ghosts.

In dreams, I swim freely in turquoise water, and we are newlyweds on perpetual holiday…So romantic.
In the dark, you reach for me as a constant force.
The hands that soothe your fever away, channeling the divine.

During these in-betweens, the sky is formless and melts into the horizon.
Remember when we used to climb onto rooftops to watch the city skyline?
Dreaming of the future we intended to create.

Our souls were so close that I did not know where I ended, and where you began.
Bury me in sand, a saltwater mermaid.
Let me grant you 3 wishes.

What of the interior landscapes of women?
We are fallen goddesses striving for balance. Making it rain
Wading up to our shoulders in swimming pool water
a glamorous life in that magical hour of the afternoon that never dares to turn to twilight.
Sometimes it breaks me in half.

I have always been galvanized, with an insomniac’s brain.
Time moves through the ages.
Tsunami waves ripple, complete decimation.
No one can tell me what to do with these prophetic migraines.

What does it mean to leave and try to return?
Returning to a place that is either geographical or metaphorical,
but being cast away.
There has always been a rainstorm inside of me.
I am water. I reinvent myself.

Raven speaks tricks through my mouth…
I will weather the storm, the buried treasure of my heart intact.
As long as I have magical feathered wings,
I am waterproof.