Back from our walk
on the seashore,
where I watched fishermen
and their canoes fade into the far sky
while you tried to track
the footmarks of sauntering lovers,
holding back your tears
you asked me to hide
beneath the dark of this night.
Ashamed of my longing for canoes
I couldn’t do anything
but drape myself with the moonless sky
and search for stars with worried eyes
frightened of the specters of time.
Except for these words
which do not say anything
anything at all
I have gone silent;
as silent as those sad footmarks
those leftovers scattered on the seashore
those alien memories you tried to track.
