Tracings

I walk the scalloped coastline
as if I am tracing the lace edge of your bodice,
my knuckles soft across your surface,
our hearts beating like waves chasing each other,
seeking to escape the gathering storm
by breaking, over and over again.
My arms spread wide to take it all in,
to take you all in.
I'm a supplicant to beauty!
Let the weight of the wide sky fall on me
like a downy comforter!
My eyes spring with surprise,
as if at a dolphin sighting.
The aperture of my body is as open as can be,
a wide angle lens bending, stretching to receive.
I am backlit as a wave at sunset,
crimson, transparent, on fire.
I am light, and glad to be, even
glad to have been, when the light goes out.
The waves of passion have scratched the shore,
leaving sand paintings for our healing.
There are parables in those parabolas.