Untitled Elias Doering

in the moss; rabbits were not afraid of you, they let you crack their soft necks like sacrifices to a goddess. the lighthouse creaked open for you like the mouth of some deep-sea creature that we know lurks beneath the foam-lipped ocean. waiting for us to slip and fall. But there is no one here but us, my love, standing side by side, perched on the long waving grass above those jagged white rocks that line the coast like teeth, they garrison our keep. we shall not have anyone here in our light house but us, my love, and the seaweed trim of your dress that thrashes and flows. never still. I will watch you pick blackberries and they will fall like warm wax and stain a trail to me, to our tomb that reaches to touch the sky. I take you to the top and you touch the tips of your fingers to the mist. Let the ghost of your damp skin touch my face.

15 ruxandra chirila