they are a sea of surging words
overflowing the in-between scenes of their day
two vagrants in the clutches of contingency
destinies lapping and overlapping unto infinity,
lost in a cycle of reckless abandon

but what if normalcy were to soften their aim?
a solipsistic winter that could shutter the soul and slow the flame
but is adventure ever lost or found? is it in a specific place?

she says “maybe it’s a state of mind.”
he agrees – tracing the curves of her face,
finding wild flower fields in her eyes
they are laid out beneath this champagne sky,
folding and unfolding into one another
time hangs in restless repose, as they slip into their night clothes
and sneak off through the slumbering city

they will run through its endless aisles, smiling like the moon
and the sea will hold their dreams because morning comes too soon

(pellet island, minnesota, usa)