Do you see the valley?
It reminds me of something.
I’ve flown over the ridges at night.
Moonlit trees sequestered on a hillock,
a river of shadows kissing the reef.
I want to ride my bicycle up the ravine,
where the last man dug a trail with his blood.
I want to be breathless,
as I struggle up the foothills,
to be left breathless, as I tumble down.
Handles bereft of hands.
An ocean lying in wait.
Hands held sacred for a lover.
Secrets of the heart, released,
as the tears of the ocean, spray.
There’s a nagging presence to my longing,
and a pebble in my shoe.
There’s a bottle green couch behind the bookshelf.
I fall asleep on it sometimes. And how I dream.