Revenant Return

I float … in the ether - a roll of sea swells below, pier toward the west, little island I know so well - endless hours there, but rarely alone ... then … moon pixies … sparkle at my feet, dancing underneath "me" - soft, yellow-blue stars of reflected lunar beams, shafts of lit night haze break apart on the crests ... a thousand coruscations - rippling bulbs of opalescent flashes that I burst with my being and scatter on the inky surface of the bay, brightening the warm, briny twilight air ... this is what I AM now, no dream, there I was once, below ... a sum of youthful motives - to laugh, cogitate, love, cry, to place the broken puzzle pieces with concern and sensibility ... sensibility? ha - such irony! we, a trio of chaotic souls searching, there once, oddly "us" … a heart beat in my chest, true, thrumming for the physical sakes that I translated poorly ... raspberry lips and auburn hair, supple, fleshy treasures that bloomed warm beneath white cotton sleeves … music like a manic drug, enchanting … trading sleep for infatuation - love for the sake of love only … is it not that way for all callow souls? the crude and burgeoning id that we twist around Life's finger? yet, now … I float in the ethereal vacuum, and a revenant eternity is no bargain - to feel, to love, to act, to ACHE … all a chasm … hollowness many upon many, the visitations here, spurned images played out, no tactile, no breath, no seam in the fabric of this tapestry ... no waft, no will, no wonder, no guilt - oh, the piercing hearts! this place … is not special, but oh, how very special it IS … this place is not mine, but oh, it is no one's BUT mine … this place is just a small island in a bay, like a million others, but you will ALWAYS find me here … I am no more, but I AM, and attending ... thus, if cares be - look for me on nights like this ... watch, as I kick the moonbeams into pixies, listen as I make the pier posts creak, (that is not the tide), and breathe me in ... oh pray, take pity and make a sweet, tender breath of me … feel the bite and slap of the keen, salty sea that has become me … draw in all that it is, and all that I have become in its stead … fill your lungs with it, still, then give it back to the wind, yet … but gently, that, and with a thought or two of kindness, if you can manage it ... I float in the meanderings of others ... an island there, westward, and the shine of the moon below, now calm ... gone the swells - remaining, a glass-like bay of stars and puffs, wan and few ... in the sea now, a reflection of what I am - what I have become - the ethereal ... I float toward the mirror image that looks back at me from below - phantasm of a fool … and his hopeful, haggard heart … amaranthine.