Endless Nada

Crossing the last street
tipping shadows in your wake
the other end of dreams
wings of pelicans feathering the surf
like goddamn phantoms of angels
crashing the beach gate grillwork of
sea mist, sand & kelp

wet sand

packed like pearls
smuggled in from submarine realms
of rust & ruin
Andalusian hypodermic needles
broken bottles, coral blossoms & stone
where we never set foot
but linger a while

within these calculations
set to winged reflection

lair of the white powder

as a downwind palm tree
darker than pressed rose-petal headphones
skates the drop edge of yr heart