MELODY WANG

★ ★ ★ ★

POETRY

Image by Marek Piwnicki

The Sea is Still Speaking to Me 

Last night, I dreamt
of lulling dark waves
kissing the luminous
particles of sand, birthing
ebony stones as smooth
as my childhood was not

I awoke, uneasy, the soft
cadence of lapping water still
echoing in my ears — salt-tinged
seaweed clung to my hair
as my circadian rhythms
swayed in distress

I thought I sensed
in the distance
the wail of a woman
quickly muffled by
those ravenous currents
and tossed away

We always have been

creatures of the night, each
raised to long for the solace
found only in the absence of light.

What did the darkness conceal
that both repelled and drew me
to you like a drunken bee to the sweet

final respite of a blazing forest fire?
Just beyond the edge of this dream
or memory, the broken light streams

in like spindly piano keys and
suddenly I think of that hidden path
strewn with the stones of a bygone era

we never thought to say goodbye
to — how could we have known then
what loss tasted like? All we can do

now is glide with colorless strokes
of a silent moving picture chasing
a light we never knew would save us.