High Tide

High tide

You come to me now, like the ghost of feelings past,

when I’d abandoned all thoughts of love and lust.

Packed them up into a yesterday box and buried it in the garden.

You - solid, touchable, scented, sensual, like the vast ocean,

beckoning…dip your toe, dive in naked…leave the desolate shore.

And I want to be consumed, submerged in the blue of you.

I want to be caressed in your cold, liquid eyes,

brushed by foamy fingers of tenderness.

But there are no flags to signify safety for my swimming heart.

And if I start, head into to that familiar surf

buoyed by the crest of you,

I know I could easily go under.

Lose myself, sucked out on a high tide,

only to be washed up on unforgiving rocks.