Melissa Allen

I am enraptured
by the soft, yellow glow framing you
in this space I know so well
of countless distractions for the senses.
Transported and in curious study
with the curves on your face.
Like a nautical chart
to hidden places undiscovered by wayfaring gentlemen
and my own restless, blue-ocean eyes.

I do not hear your words on lawsuits and dogs.
My drifting mind follows the ebb of your voice instead.
So beautiful, with the grace of a mainsail’s unfolding.
It carries my battered soul to the sea
to dance on grateful shoreline.
And we dance,
to and fro - a slow pendulum
between reality of bitter coffee
and taste of salt air.

Grey mist blurs the line I see
between your hair and sky.
I am lost, a stowaway in dreams
adrift the sea in your eyes.
So far removed from this place
where we straighten crooked pictures,
soothe tired keels
and navigate through life’s swells.