at the dawn of new
love the redness of sand

but the enormity of
my past crash-landed
into the current

after losing sight
of an early oasis

I’m adjusting
to your alien
environment

a mast
can anchor
to lust buried

in the desert
to disappear

except you
reemerge

endlessly
in thought
and linger

a ship
that surfaces
to haunt

 

(originally published in EAP, Spring 2020)