reverend ryan corb.

Starfish

Yesterday

I spent the afternoon

Inside your hourglass

I tipped your kiss sideways

So I could pause to admire the grains

Of sand and crystal forming a beach

Across your lips

There is no place I would rather feel stranded

I am thankful for the black

Labrador vernacular you whisper

At my hip

During the moments I feel human

And so alone.

I would hurl driftwood and dried out

Pieces of myself into the surf, and you

You

Would retrieve them.

Dripping sea salt and forgiveness.

The shells

They are thankful for the waves

And the loyalty.

For the time it took to turn

a hard casing

Into something soft to walk on.

For the nights I let the moon

Peel you back like a bed sheet

Without wondering if you would

Return in the morning

I always knew you would be there.

You are a daily homecoming

In a cove I don’t have to work

To feel comfortable in.

A myriad of hi-hat and green

Jazz spilling to the rocks

You are a congregation of starfish

An underwater sacrificial Milky Way

Washing ashore

Giving up breath

So I might have something to wish

for.

Once we have tended each other

I will keep the driftwood.

Place it into my pocket.

Press my lips to the points of a pentagram

And gently toss you back to the reef

We will part ways.

I will tilt your kiss upright

And give the beach its time

back.

But I will always have your sunburn.

And you

You will have my footprints.

Cheeks full of kissed and sleeping

starfish

Courtesy of  Ryan Corb.

I couldn't ask for a better friend in him.