Puka Beach

I remember a photo of us,
you and I,
all smiles and innocent
of a night
yet to come. Behind us
the surf was unruly,
violent, the
sound of waves
crashing in
a lost memory. A vast
space of sky
and sea huddled us
together, as if
our bodies, our lives,
were too big
to fit in the lens:
you and me,
at a singular time,
on a singular frame,
were held so close
so briefly.
What were we before
any sign showed itself?
Unprepared to enter
the same fold
of warm, white sand, we
were drawn
each into each, lost
in the other,
under a distant, jealous moon.

// Aug 2017

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