Complexion

by Faith G

A day like any other;
as I stare out at this blue-crabbed coast.
I am fixed on the waves and their gentle foxtrot;

first turning outward, then inward towards themselves,
in the hope that their slow dance will somehow calm me.
Lately my anger feels so powerful,
it could stop God’s plan daily at 3:00pm.

Eating, sleeping, walking by rote,
but I cannot aptly execute the tiniest gesture
with my obsession.
Must I now also accept that there are no clear, dispassionate thoughts
moving through this stagnancy?

I kneel down on the coarse New England beachcover;
praying for your memory to fall into the sea.
I stare at the pillows of clouds
as tears gather on my cheeks;
they are the texture of rain falling
on late November soil.
It is difficult to project whether
my genuflection will help me forget,
warm to again or not,
the peculiar lineaments of love.
A few years prior, I might not have recognized your trademark,
and yet, I am still very much alone in body and spirit.
Somehow I think we together decided that last day
that your brand of segregation
would work quite well
in both our worlds.