Space of Buoyancies

I feel lonely

but I’m still in love with you

the fog is thick, blurring

blue and loosening

what I thought I knew of this,

distance

it’s different

now in this early dusk

where this familiar mountain has become

something so bending as sea / water

where you are

is not where I am

but tonight it feels as though I could swim to you along this thin

line between stone and sky

gentle space of buoyancies

of a thousand fond memories

allows me to rest on a calm alone

to close the periphery

that this isn’t the sea, but instead a quick and enclosing storm

and I’m on a mountain

with love/ alone.

I went with love but without expectations. I wanted to call to a familiar face that the wild flowers, those magenta ones that so overwhelmed me recently, were still in bloom and that they looked extraordinarily beautiful under the low, grey sky. But there was no one there to hear in the way I wanted to be heard and so I felt alone, despite the company of the colors. And what was a mist of grey below became a purple-blue-black sky above. There was just enough space in the sky's openings to see the effects of the setting sun meeting a nearing storm. It was there that I felt the paradox of memory, that alone-togetherness, that feeling that both pulls me from loneliness and hurls me deeper in. That bittersweet power of reminder.