My love isn’t the stuff of vapor trails
that stretches and disappears in a blink.
It isn’t the stuff of morning dew
that twinkles and shivers at dawn
but dries before the air heats.
My love is a rocky island
set in a turbulent sea
under a sparkling blue sky
and the shimmer of white haze.
My love is the hidden island cove
and transparent quiet waters
rolling and smoothing
the sharp edges of shattered glass.
My love is the sheltered calanques
of October where wet stars
light the heart and salty waters
kiss your wounds clean.
My love is the island a shore-bound gaze
sees move and change
but always stays